M A Y S O N
Hunter’s laugh was deep and rumbled in his chest. It made the veins in his neck on the left side pop out slightly. His teeth are model-worthy for dentistry, completely white and no chips. The wind made his long hair whip in around his face if he looked the wrong way, one section always swaying a different direction than he wanted it to. The white shirt he wore flapped slightly in the gentle wind, most of it held down by his tight brown leather jacket. You would assume he owned a motorcycle with the amount of leather he owned.
Just down the road from the theatre, Hunter took us to an open field and park. It wasn't a park for children, but for adults. There was a large pond on one side of the park, a paved sidewalk that wrapped around the entire area, a bridge that arched o
