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Weekly Contest #63
Leaves hovered the ground, twirling around Hazel Bryson and Charlie Montgomery's ankles as they raced toward the apple grove. The sweet sound of juvenile laughter filled the air as Hazel sped past her best friend. "You never let me win!" Charlie complained as he finally caught up. He leaned against a tree to catch his breath and smoothed his charcoal black hair. "You're such an old man." Hazel's 17 years old, sapphire eyes gleamed as she teased the olive complexioned boy. Every time she ran, she couldn't help but get lost in all the wo...
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