Faded Polaroids.

Amy came and sat next to me; legs sprawled out in some exaggerated fashion. I noticed her monstrous grin as she leaned over me to take a picture. I loved the clicking noise that polaroids made as they dispense the printed exposure. I just loved the instant polaroids. There’s something genuine and fun about them. Amy shook the exposure and tossed it into my face, revealing a candid of me trying to hide behind my hands. She kissed my cheek and then hopped up to go take some more elsewhere.
Morgan pulled up in his father’s car. He jumped out with a fishing pole in his hands, and I noticed a few of his friends get out too. Tea ran up to him and hugged him. Together they walked down the bank and stood up against our oak tree as he baited his line.
Amy came back and lay on her back next to me. She kicked her shoes off and stared at the clouds, trying to make out shapes. We put flowers in each others hair and made necklaces from buttercups.
Everything we did here was always so true and genuine. Our treasure cove.

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