How Starbucks Changed the Meaning of Fall Forever

I lit a pumpkin spice scented candle to help me write this. It’s not helping, really, because it's a cheap one from Walmart that keeps burning out. I’m not sure why. Maybe something to do with the wicks? In any case, in the few moments between the minute I light the candle and the minute it mysteriously extinguishes itself, my house smells wonderful. I feel safe and warm. It’s impossible to imagine anything bad happening when you’re smelling pumpkin spice. Take my three primary recurring fears: being murdered, being eaten alive by rats, and having a late-in-life schizophrenic break. It’s inconceivable that any of these things would happen to me when a delicate mix of sweet and spice is coursing through my nostrils. It would just be too weird.