Pile #1
I. THE CALL
She threw herself into the orange den, and although the glow wasn’t warm, it was home. This was pile one - the first free of this fall, and so she wanted to hold it. The crunchy impasto, of leaves the shades of sunshine crayons, of ruddy clays, and other primal memories. It could be her one and only chance, so naturally, she took it. In her arms and with her teeth, like a mother bear. She let herself go into the ground. The earthiness that had always been there, was thankfully still there! A big, round, all over body sigh, magically sweet as ever, the kind with muddy boots in the air and skirts with no remorse. She was the fun and flirty wind. She was delicious. She was…not alone.
