The UnderpassIt always smelled like leaves. Crunchy Halloween leaves, damp with early autumn rain. Even in the summer, when we went to the underpass, the concrete held that feeling of misty rains and cloudy days. The trek there was always longer than it should have been, or perhaps shorter than we wished it to be. Time was irrelevant as we slipped through fences and over bridges and walked barefoot across the warm sand by the lake. We’d talk as we went, of those meaningless things that seem so important when you’re twelve years old.The Underpass
The underpass was forbidden to us. I think that’s why we went there. It was ou
Angsty Remus
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"If people knew how hard I worked to get my mastery, it wouldn't seem so wonderful at all." ~ Michelangelo
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