SENTENCED

By: Mahohokus

It's a chilly autumn evening in Gardiner, Maine. The sky is a deep shade of indigo, scattered with a few fleeting clouds. The air carries a hint of wood smoke and leaves crunching beneath feet. I'm standing on the fifty-yard line of Gardiner High School's football field, my hands thrust deep into the pockets of my worn leather jacket. My breath forms little white puffs in front of me, dissipating slowly into the crisp air. The lights of the stadium bathe me in a warm glow, casting long shadows across the grass.