We shared our afternoon at the ocean. Shimmering sunshine sparkled and danced like pixies on blue green water. We built a firepit and pretended we were on a desert island with no one else but us. We made friends with an otter. We played hide and seek in the tall grass until we were out of breath and collapsed for a nap together under a bush.
When we woke up, we ate our picnic lunch I had prepared for us. Peanut butter and banana sandwiches, peaches and halva for dessert. A beer to wash it all down. We sat like a couple of monkeys cuddled close. She picked thistles off my jacket while I brushed burrs from her hair. As we smoked a bowl together, we made energency escape plans, just in case we ever had to grow up.
As we watched the sunset catch fire to the horizion, she reached into her backpack and carefully pulled out a sheet of paper. Torn and frayed along the edges, the drawing on it was faded and smudged. But, the portrait was unmistakably recognizable. Without a doubt, this was a picture of me. She placed the sketch of myself onto my lap. "I feel you should know that I drew this when I was 11.", she said.
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