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// Story No. 47 
// Story: THIS IS A STORY 
// by _NAME_ 
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The stallion stepped out onto his back porch and stared out at the blanket of leaves that covered his yard.

Though the trees that lined his backyard were nice in summer and spring, every autumn that came around, the stallion regretted even having them, as their falling leaves would bury the yard to the point where there was more leaves than grass.

And he had neglected to clean them for most of the season, so his yard was nigh unrecognizable.

With a weary sigh, the stallion hoisted his rake in his magical grip and stared apprehensively at the daunting chore he once again had to complete.

He took a step onto his yard, the leaves crunching under his hooves, and began raking, clearing a small strip parallel to his house, exposing the dead grass underneath.

Resigning himself to his task, the stallion worked diligently through most of the day, with a few breaks in between, raking all of the fallen leaves into several piles throughout his yard.

By the time he was done, the sun had already passed its highest point and was beginning to sink lower.

As the evening swiftly arrived, the stallion grabbed several trash bags and went around shoving as many leaves into one bag as he could, closing it up, and moving onto the next.

Before long, he had cleared his yard of all its offending leaves, the only reminder of what was once there being the numerous trash bags stuffed to bursting.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, the stallion leaned on his rake and looked at his clean, albeit lifeless yard and smiled, proud of what he had accomplished. 

And then one final leaf blew off a branch and landed in the middle of the clean grass.