The First Curious Incident of October 15

I walked down the street looking at the leaves as they scuttled along the broken pavement. A man, walking the other way, looked up and shouted something loudly before falling down in a bundle in front of me. I ran up to him and asked him if he was alright, but he didn’t move. I bent over him, and shook his shoulder, but he still didn’t move. The wind shook a flap of his coat. I rolled him over onto his back. His eyes, wide and glassy, reflected the clouds racing by. He was dead. I had seen my first death.