A jejune something. Is that what this is? Not according to 100% of the readers here (me). The thing about leaves changing color is they eventually fall from the tree and get raked or just decompose into food for the next cycle. When you're a guy and your colors change, the only part that dies is the part that needs to be dead. The remaining part is "like a spider spinning daydreams" taking breaks from breaks and never tasting the distillate of disillusionment ever again. Shedding the flak jacket is almost worthy enough for that but the robe of redemption sweetened by the residue of lavender candle ash let's you know this isn't grey flannel suit shit. The lingering absence of self-doubt is the mint on the pillow of the non-jejune.

Will stammers when he elucidates sometimes, but he never veers from eloquence when he talks about his life with Jill. Bring me the memo, but I already revised it.