Those who had never experienced autumn would never understand. If spring was a romantic journey, then autumn was a lingering malaise, the time God left for people to be somber, sorrowful, and alone. The soul sank along with the whole world, becoming as dry as fallen leaves, gradually withering and shattering, lifted by the cold wind like flickering static in an old film projected from a reel.
Autumn in a big city was wetter and colder. Without soil and red brick walls, mist always condensed on the glass of revolving doors, reflecting the wet stains on asphalt roads. Mud-spattered leather shoes, knitted scarves piled around necks, handwritten daily menus, and the hum of coffee machines grinding beans—autumn mornings on Green Street always began with such things.
"Hello, two espressos, two unsweetened lattes, one latte with double milk and double sugar, and one flat white. Put them together, please. Thank you."
The coffee shop clerk turned around and saw a young man in a black trench coat, with a neatly pressed light-blue shirt underneath and an ID badge hanging around his neck.
"Oh, you're new." As he selected the coffee beans, he smiled and said, "Which office are you from?"
The other man looked somewhat embarrassed and nervous. "Uh, the least popular one."
"I never would've guessed you were a Federal Shield employee." The clerk's tone was cheerful as he looked back at the man. "I thought they only hired freaks."
"No, I'm not with Federal Shield. I'm with the Federal Bureau of Investigation." He looked even more embarrassed. "The Behavioral Science Analysis Department, BAU. You've heard of it, right?"
"The FBI?" The clerk looked even more surprised. "I heard you were setting up an office here, but I didn't expect it to be on Green Street too. What, are you