POV: you’re in a quiet, cozy spot with a simple view of magnificent trees with colorful leaves on a crisp autumn day - you are wearing fuzzy socks, have a warm drink and a good book with you - the wind is howling at night, you are looking at misty lands and the smell of fire in the hearths is in the air
what do they put in october and november that makes them the most ungodly mental breakdown psychosis inducing months imaginable. what are they storing in the orange leaves and generally grey drowsy atmosphere
