Quarry

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It smelled like rain, tires rotating at unimaginable speeds down rickety dirt roads. Being sixteen at 3 AM never felt so good. Gum collapsing and expanding in my mouth as the guys talked, our footprints in the dew covered grass slowly dissapearing in our trace. Parents asleep with no knowledge of what we're doing. It's time, the van door slid open and we rushed out in the darkness of night. If we were too few we would exhibit fear, but with numbers grows adventure. Sneakers smacked on the pavement and we began to walk. There were eight of us, Three were talking about something that happened in school last week. Two were talking about weed. Another two were silent, the final was looking at the stars. His mind was always elsewhere. We approached the chained fence of the day light workers at the quarry, chains slumped over the looming yet cowardly fence.  In perfect unison the eight pounced the fence, sixteen is not an age to keep in or to keep out. 

Reviews

[Into_The_Cosmos]

Our youth (like myself) always believes that at their age, they are invincable. I liked this story and can relate because my cousin has done this -_-. Anyway good story!! Loved it!

[yashsickle]

Thank you :D

[writing mojo]

I relate a good deal with this, the days old are never blown out of proportion, you filled the memories perfect with the flow of this reminiscing piece...great job

[yashsickle]

Thanks!! :D