It’s the third week in October. My and my friends are in a park. The leaves on the trees are a fireworks-like display of red and orange hues, soon sent spiraling and tumbling through the air. The air has a distinct chill but it’s warm in Golden sunshine. Me and my friends walk the trails, sometimes talking, sometimes silent, listening to the crunch of leaves underfoot.
Now we’re under the pavilion sitting at a picnic table covered in a red and white checkered table cloth that I brought. We pass a cinnamon flavored coke around as we talk about silly and stupid things. Life is good.
By the Brooke 