They met in the forgotten places, amidst overgrown fences and cracked cement, so that was where she waited for them. She tried to tame her unwashed curls of brown hair and smooth her ragged green hoodie.
“Hey,” a voice said and she turned to see a young man with skin like the earth and hair like fire. “Where you from?”
“Nowhere. I’m looking for…” She paused. “Them.”
“You’ve found us,” he replied, extending his hand. “You’ll fit right in.”
They ran in the shadows, hid on the edges, laughed and stole and fought in their little world, their resistance.
Word Count: 99
This is for Friday Fictioneers. Thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for running the challenge and Peter Abbey for providing the prompt photo!