By Evan Cozad
Ethan and Sam make their way home from underneath the football bleachers. A faint smell of marijuana drifts off them. As the sun sets underneath the sea of corn, as the cemetery caretaker puts away the last of his heavy machinery, as the last of the high school athletes show up to the ice cream stand on the corner of Main Street, as the last of the lights in the library go off and old Miss Elaine goes home, as the mesh and rubber soles feel a little off beneath Sam and Ethan’s toes, Ethan’s grip tightens around Sam’s hand as they disappear into the hazy orange of the town’s summer.
Evan Cozad is a writer from South Whitley, Indiana who is pursuing a Bachelor of Arts in English from Ball State University. He doesn’t like to constrain himself with biographical statements, but he does own a jubilant pug named Yogi.