The sun begins to lay itself beneath the horizon, bathing the concrete ground of the skateboard in a dazzling orange and red light. Your friends laugh amongst themselves next to the chain link fence that envelopes the park, each of them smiling contently. You didn't quite hear the joke, but you smile too, because their laughter is contagious.
Your helmets lay nearby, long abandoned, much like the skateboards they rest on top of. The streetlights flick on around you, though the sun is not fully set. You all jump the fence, just the same as you had gotten in.
You tie your sweatshirt around your waist, feeling the cool evening breeze cross your body. You allow yourself to take in the park around you. Towering oak trees bathed in light, walnut trees growing new leaves, fresh grass growing neatly out of the dirt and between the cracks in the sidewalk. Though the local wildlife as fallen silent for the night, the park is brimming with the evidence of animals. Tracks in the soft earth, holes in tree trunks where woodpeckers search for beetles, abandoned nests and silent beehives.
You all marvel at a seemingly impossibly tall sequoia tree in the center of the park. The bark is rough, and the tree is adorned with hundreds of branches. You all settle down at the base of the tree, taking a break before the rest of the night falls upon you.
Your talking is much quieter now, matching the tone of the evening. You discuss your plans, walks through the forests, and adventures through the colorfully lit downtown area. In between the giggles and the playful punches you realize that you've never met such a fine group of people, and likewise that there's nobody you'd rather be with.
YOU ARE READING
Fresh Baked Bread (cottagecore)
General FictionThis will probably be a collection of meaningless stories, or just cute scenes that sound pleasing. I write these in my free time as a coping mechanism for stress, and I hope they can bring others a little bit of happiness too.
