The first autumnal morning always caught her by surprise. It always seemed too soon, not because she didn’t love fall best of the seasons – she did – but simply because it seemed out place following as it did so suddenly upon weeks of sweltering summer. It seemed too much of a wonder that the world could change so easily, so dramatically, from one day to the next.
It also always reminded her of the morning he said he was leaving: the sudden, unanticipated chill in the air of the sunlit room, the frost-rimmed silence while he packed up his suitcase and called a cab.
The leaves would start to turn soon.