The treetops were a dark green in the early morning light of mid-February. And though the sun had barely woken itself and climbed lazily over the horizon, the day had already started for those who lived beneath and did not have the luxury of waking up slowly.
The wind blew cold and calloused and whipped my golden curls around mercilessly. Over one shoulder my backpack hung, though there was not much inside. My free hand moved to gather my mess of hair and hold them to the side and away from my face.
My feet carried me towards the street, walking carefully against the wind in low white heels while my skirt and blouse danced madly. I turned my attention to the street where faintly the rapid acceleration of a driver could be heard, and the sound of the engine and shifting gears became more apparent. At the last minute the driver applied the brakes and with the tires screaming in protest he came to a stop in front of me.
With a grin he stepped out of the car and sat against the cherry colored hood. “Hey there gorgeous.”