My Tangerine Girl

She had tangerine hair. Thick and tangled like unkempt brush. Every spring after the snow had melted, we hurled ourselves into the backwoods and like wild boars we charged. Twigs snapped and cracked scratching our skin. Our legs and feet were like thin twigs dipped in mud. She’d holler at me, “Keep up young one!” … More My Tangerine Girl