Fall senses

She looked at the prompt, a puzzled frown on her face.

Fall.

Well, there was no way she would know. What season were they in now? It definitely wasn't fall, or rather, autumn. On the other side of the world, perhaps. But not here.

She turned away from the screen and looked out the window. What was a typical American autumn like? She imagined pink and orange sunsets, the cool, post-winter air. Cool air. She missed that. Here, they only ever got it in winter and begged for it in the scorching summers. She imagined clusters of fading trees dropping beautiful leaves, the same colour as the sky at dusk. It made death seem so graceful. The sound of the breeze flying past her ears accompanied the gust that whipped her hair around her. Maybe she would be walking through a park and come across an old couple on a bench. Dry leaves would crunch underneath her boots. She would be drinking an autumn- no, fall drink. A hot chocolate. Or was that more of a winter thing? She heard pumpkin spice lattes were popular, but she didn't like the sound of it. What about a juice? No, that's definitely a summer thing. She sighed. The simulation broke. She turned back to the screen.

Damn this Australian heat.