By Gale Huxley
The morning was dark, wet, and empty, except for us. We wore lace socks and baby doll dresses. My friend, my only friend now, raced and rolled in the grass with me until our white dresses were deliciously scented and stained. When the students, sleepy-eyed and shriller than the birds, walked onto the field, we crept under the rickety bleachers. As we watched their movements, we passed a thin joint from liver-spotted hand to sun-spotted hand, wishing we knew we were young while we were still young and that other people could see our youth now that our skin betrays us.
Wonderful writing.
Thanks, Tim! I appreciate you taking the time to comment.
Like my mother used to say, Youth…Divine Treasure!
Definitely, Rudolph! Thanks for commenting.
Love ?? it….
Thanks!
Great story and excellent writing! Would love to read more from this author.
Thank you, Fred!
Very touching!
Aw! Such a sweet story of friendship (and getting high!).
My favorite of this week’s 101 word stories. May we all stay so young at heart.