kaeelle
He was below the brush, leaning into the sticks and leaves. It was a far-fetched idea, but just may work. He was certain that his hat could still be seen, if one looked close enough beneath the branches. He crouched lower to the ground, his fingers digging into the mulch, back aching with the awkward contortion of his body.
The confetti had finished falling, landing and nesting in her hair, swept into a loose mess of curls on top of her head. It was after midnight, all of the guests had gone. The celebration was one for the books. Her ring glistened in the lights that were still prepped for a party already completed, and she twirled it around her finger, committed. Committed to what, she was unsure. It was going to be a night to remember, no matter what the outcome was going to be.
She sat at the window, her aged hands folded across her lap. Her white cardigan pulled tightly around her, she watched the leaves bounce off the glass and then flutter to the ground. Her brow was furrowed, her coffee untouched. Her concerned look was evident to even passers-by on the street below her.
The group gathered around an Oak tree felled by the storm. They didn't have signs, or tee shirts. They didn't have megaphones or loud speakers. There was nothing but a group of teenagers, sitting quietly at the bottom. "What are you sitting here for anyway?" asked a passerby. One girl didn't even look up, and simply said, "We're rallying for someone to remember us."