A line from a song drifted into my head: "You always loved this time of year".Well, not quite.Actually, a lot of the time, she hated it. It meant the ...nd of sunny days and warm endless evenings with the heady perfume of late summer flowers.But she did love the leaves.It was the colours, I think. All those bright reds and oranges, twisting and twirling as the breeze wafted through the trees. They were warm colours, nature's last hurrah before the cold really took hold.And, of course, they were. The tailor there was noted for his fine workmanship and he only did suits for the finest families as a sideline for his employer’s trade.The Pakistani driver didn’t like the overly long hair and the wild look in the strange fellow’s eyes that reminded him of the animals of prey that roamed the mountains of his mostly undeveloped country. He was glad the taxi company had installed the glass partitions in the cabs because he felt a little bit safer with the barrier between him and his. More

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