Memoir for Brook Run

Nearly everyday after high school during my junior year, my friends Brendon and Zenus, accompanied by their skateboards, would meet me at the far corner of the south parking lot and hop in my Mom's car, ignoring the Georgia State restriction that a driver who has possessed a license for under 6 months cannot transport non-family members under 21. After passing under the expressway where the gas stations would sell cigarettes to under aged kids, we would head over to the [name] Hospice parking lot and cross over a trampled fence on the woodland perimeter of the property into the "closed" area of Brook Run.