When I came outside, it was perfectly balmy for a late October day. The sky was gray, but tinged with high flat clouds, fading golden at the edges. The leaves were twirling and whirling so forcefully today I thought they might burst into the doors of the car and stick there like little knives.
When I was little, I imagined autumn leaves smelling like drying tobacco as we buried our tiny bodies in giant piles of that dry must. Today I am treasuring every gorgeous moment and memory of the fading beauty that is this life on Earth.
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