This is a short story about childhood, puberty, and the wilderness.
She had tangerine hair. Thick and tangled like an unkempt bush. Every spring after the snow had melted, we hurled ourselves into the backwoods, and like wild boars, we charged. Twigs snapped and cracked scratching our skin. Our legs and feet were like thin twigs dipped in mud. She’d holler at me, “Keep up young … More My Tangerine Girl
Here’s a short story about an embarrassing incident where a man faints at a fair.