Deep autumn is a season of sentimentality.
The transition from vibrant vitality to bleak coldness, with its stark contrast in scenery and temperature, easily stirs the human heart. Thus, in the hands of literary artists, deep autumn often emerges in the form of an elegiac tune.
"Achoo!"
Just as he stepped down from the gangway and before he could appreciate the foreign landscape of deep autumn, Pasiphael sneezed three times in a row.
"My apologies."
Pulling out a handkerchief to blow his nose, he hastily tidied his appearance. Standing upright again, he saluted and spoke in the most formal tone:
"Thank you all for the trouble of welcoming me."
