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I remember when I went upstairs with my cousins to smoke weed. I was carrying a lite beer can, wearing shorts, t-shirt and flip-flops. The stars were out. I don't even remember what we talked about, but the humid night air was flavorful on the deck. I remember camping next to a river, five of my good friends all balled up in sleeping bags around me on a tarp on the ground when I woke up late in the early moonlight as the dying campfire smoldered a single last wisp of smoke, curling up slowly like a doused candle. And as my eyes went up with the smoke they met a snowflake coming down. I remember the sight of the roaring fire when our neighbors' house burned down, standing on the railing of our deck to see over our own roof at the furnace engulfing their lives, and you turned to me and said, "I'll never forget this sight." I haven't. |