Autumn Pleasures

Mark zipped up his jacket against the chill air as he stepped outside the apartment he shared with his twin. The air smelled crisp, as if you could bite into it like a perfectly ripe apple. There was a clean quality to the light, as if undiffused by any atmosphere. The leaves on the old maple in the yard were turning red, and others along the street were various shades of orange and yellow. At the end of the block, the street dead-ended into a corn field, half of the stalks still stood tall, burdened with the heavy ears, the other half of the field was stubble, large machined rumbling up and down the rows, sheering off the corn at the base.

Mark whistled random tunes as he walked down the street, heading toward the military base. It was a good five miles away, but he didn't mind. Autumn was the perfect time of year, and he was going to enjoy every second he could.