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We've seen many years go by. The square is empty, safe for a handful of trees, growing

in the shadow of the beautiful architecture. The air is crisp, but you are warm and cozy

in a long coat. The last remaining leaves on the trees around you shine crimson and gold

as the sun begins to set. Many of the branches are already bare, but some cling to their leaves

as they're hanging on to the final touch of summer for as long as they can.

A cool breeze washes over the tops of the buildings and into the square.

It kicks up the leaves that have already fallen into little flurries of autumn color.

That swirl around your feet. One of the leaves catches your eye.

It is long and thin with jagged brown edges that curl inward like old parchment.

It's center is a bright, lemon yellow with spots of green and red discoloration,

marking its journey through fall. The breeze picks it up and tosses it into an arched passageway

leading out of the square. As it tumbles through the enclosed space, it is hidden from view

for just a moment by the shadows within. Curious, you follow the leaf.

You hear the sound of your shoes tapping rhythmically on the cobblestone as you walk.

The sound is rich and pleasing to the ear. It echoes slightly as you pass under the archway

and into the small tunnel. You feel a sense of closeness here compared to the open square behind you.

You can no longer see the sunset sky or hear the rustling of the leaves as they drop from the branches

...