Fall is like a terrible epidemic...
People running in the streets, with there hand flailing above their heads, shouting prayers to the heavens so that the plague will pass over them, much like crazy people who would proclaim the end of the world, Yet much, MUCH, more painful to watch.

You can tell when a person is thinking about the disease.

Their eyes go unfocused when they look out windows,
they seem to spend all there time outdoors, enjoying life,
they even wear spring colors!

Yet we are powerless to resist its seductive calls, much like throngs of sailors being lead into their death by sirens, we are being lead into Autumn by the turning of the leaves. It starts off small, a few leaves here and there, but much like a cancer, or a wildfire, it escalates quickly. One day you'll be looking out your window to see one yellow leaf on a otherwise unblemished tree; much like a pimple on the face of a young lady on the cusp of woman hood, awaiting the prom, or a bum in central park, cleaning his feet in the water fountain. You notice it, but take no heed of it. You carry on you life, pretending that the ten red spots around the pimple aren't new pimples, or that the bum's family hasn't taken residence in several trees and park benches. But soon the evidence is overwhelming, and your forced to act, quickly and swiftly. Either by turning on the sprinkles, and watching as dozens of screaming filthy bum's come sprawling down the tree, or by canceling your limo, and informing your date that your father caught you "eating the forbidden cookies and now your sentenced to your room for life", at least until the acne clears up, or lastly by taking a leaf out of "Texas chainsaw massacre", starting up the old chain saw, and begin chopping down every tree you see with yellow leaves. But that won't stop it, oh no. Fall is coming, make no mistake. There is no cure for it, yet we go through remission for 9 months of the year, making the curse almost, ALMOST, bearable.

So enjoy the next week, because you know the bum's will be back, just like the young woman knows that even all the make-up in the world can't cover up the mountains she's sprouting. This will be the last week of summer, and unless the world stop's rotating on a axis, then there is no hope for any of us. We have a long winter ahead. Prepare.