The season had been losing strength and vitality in recent days, with the sun retiring earlier in the evenings and needing more time to rise with each passing day. It went peacefully in our sleep. Today, our hearts lie heavy with sadness and grief; we’ve lost a warm, beloved season.
Autumn is here as a replacement, but it’s a very poor substitute. More of a buttinsky, really. The glories of summer cannot be replaced. Certainly not by the likes of Fall. It blows.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to cry until I throw up.