Far from the Tree
It was Monday morning at the Middleton Community College campus and Ron was sitting on one of the benches nearest to the main building. The splashes of yellow, orange, red and brown in the leaves painted the unmistakable portrait of mid-autumn. But to Ron, the entire courtyard of the campus might as well have been a glorious spring day in full bloom. As he propped his head in his hand, staring out into space, a contented sigh passed his lips, which were curled into a blissful smile.
Uh oh, I know those glazed eyes, a familiar voice sounded beside him, popping Ron out of his trance as he turned to see Zita Flores standing just a few steps away, looking at him with a sly glance and hugging a cluster of books to her chest. Thats the I-Had-Kim-All-To-Myself-Day look.