In autumn, life seems to freeze, breathing becomes easier, waking up is harder. Crowded streets empty in the evening, and lanterns consume all the secluded places. All the shadows are huddled against corners and walls. You're walking through the park. My feet are freezing from the slush, and the scarf makes it difficult to look around from the wind. Without noticing how your shoelace was coming undone, you almost fell right on the street. You sit down on the bench, irritably tying your shoelaces. It takes you a while to notice that the bench on the other side was occupied. There sat a tall, beautiful woman with long brown hair pulled back in a clip and golden brown eyes like liquid amber. She was wearing a formal three-piece suit and a wool coat, and she looked like the owner of this life. Confident, strong and cold as ice. Her gaze made you shrug. "You're a sweet little one," she said distantly