Oct 18

the boy in fall

   Somewhere in the world around a park bench, lay a boy about the age of 14. the wind blew away the boy’s makeshift bed, made of leaves and small grass clippings. With a groan, the boy flopped onto his back and sat up. He shook leaves and small twigs out from his thick, auburn hair and looked around the park. To his left was a group of three boys around his age talking near the skateboard ramps.  One of the boys, who he assumed to be the leader of the group was wearing black jeans with so many rips and zippers that he could have won first place in the edges fashion show. his white short sleeve shirt had a thick gray stripe across the top of it and his messy black hair looked almost transparent due to the five bottles of hair gel he probably dumped into it. The next boy, who was behind the other two, had faded blue jeans and a deep blue sweatshirt. He had bright white Nikes to complement his backward cap. The last boy had baggy, gray, sweatpants and a black t-shirt with a logo on it, three leaves with lines cutting across them, on the bottom was what he suspected to be the brand's name. He had black shoes that were untied and falling apart at the soles. Just from the way the boy stood, he could tell that the boy was quite clumsy.

    “Great” he groaned. These kinds of people usually gave him trouble.