It was a dark, lonely day. Fall had started to bloom, rainy days drowning out the colder breeze and the colorful falling leaves. It was beautiful in how morose it was, and how it could find the perfect balance between leaving people feeling warm, yet cold to the bone.
But the autumn colors meant little to this one young man who was walking pitifully down the streets, down the alleyways, down the dirt paths.
His suit had never looked all that good, nor all that well-kept. He was a free spirit, a go-getter: appearance was just a tool for self-expression, and professional attire never really looked good on him anyway. It looked especially drab now, soaked throughout and disheveled from the rain and the winds. He was just another piece of the scenery, morose and depressing.
But the autumn colors meant little to this one young man who was walking pitifully down the streets, down the alleyways, down the dirt paths.
His suit had never looked all that good, nor all that well-kept. He was a free spirit, a go-getter: appearance was just a tool for self-expression, and professional attire never really looked good on him anyway. It looked especially drab now, soaked throughout and disheveled from the rain and the winds. He was just another piece of the scenery, morose and depressing.