Fall is like an onion. Layers and layers of its beauty and surprises hidden behind the ever changing color leaves, the twigs on the ground that snapped under my feet, the branches curled like number nine or commas. Once, while I was running along Charles River, I came across a very, very angry looking beast- my childhood imaginary monster that hidden under grandmother kitchen stairs. But as I got closer the monster turned out to be willow tree roots that grow overlaped onto each other.
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