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Today you feel festive and buy a pumpkin spice latte to pour your whiskey into. You go to your favorite park bench and sit and drink and stare. You watch the leaves fall down, one by one, until none remain on the now bare trees. The dead leaves crunch under the feet of inattentive businessmen and women who hurry by. You stare up at the steel grey clouds and watch as the first snowflake of winter lands upon your cheek and disappears.