I noticed them when leaving the cornershop with my packet of crisps - my five minute lunch break as taken for the past week now. Red, green and yellow maple leaves littered the pavement like calling cards, the last remnants of a carnival pointing to where the party’s headed next. I have to get out of this town, out of this life. There is nothing here for me anymore but routine, and thankless indifferent prostitution. I went home and sent some poems off to competitions, like releasing doves into the evening sky. I soon fell asleep listening to the rain.