Trevor and Kaye blamed their happiness on the sunny day. They couldn't keep the smiles away. The young duo, habitually dressed in faded blacks, walked along the downtown sidewalk, hand in hand sharing a cheerful gate. Business folks stepped aside as the punky alt kids overflowed with joie de vivre. Kaye's dark, horned rimmed glasses slipped down the bridge of her nose. Her smile became squinty. She looked over at Tervor, his dirty brown hair bouncing in the breeze long with his weathered bandana.
"Kids these days," said Frank the fifty-ish accountant as the couple strode by.