Escaping kite

It was all about half an orange at the end of the day.

‘A kite race.’

Joe swung his legs through the air, perched with Jill and Jan on the tree branch too high above the autumn leaf litter. Speckles of sunlight dodged between the few leaves clinging tenaciously to life, wrinkled and withered, long past their best before date. The sun lit Jill’s red hair, making it sparkle to match the sunset above the forested hills.

‘A kite race?’ she said.

‘Yeah.’ Jo twisted on the branch, too quickl...