hung over
Two identically dressed blonde college students stroll down Main Street in black leggings, tan sheep skin moon boots and sweatshirts with their school logo wrapped tightly across their chests.
They pass by a young maple tree whose bright leaves recently came to rest on the ground. The woman closest to the leaves looks down as they pass. “I love Fall,” she declares. “It’s so beautiful.”
The other woman, without looking in the direction of the leaves, shrugs off her companion’s comment. “I wish I wasn’t so fuckin’ hung over. Then I’d be able to appreciate it.”