I inhaled, slowly, and watched the smoke curl seductively around my nostrils, my hair, and into the ether. I was staring up at the sky, trying not to choke on the acrid fumes in my throat and lungs. I hadn’t smoked for months and it was a bittersweet reunion.

I could feel my hair knotting in the grass, as I lay. So sneaky how it did that. I could lie for hours and not move a muscle, and rise only to find myself at one with the lawn. It was so much longer now, than when you saw me last. You’d laugh! Oh how I have surrendered the conservative ideals of my adolescence. I can almost imagine you here now. You’d tug at my hair, much as the grass is now, and ask me ‘what’s going on here then?’. I’d pretend to be offended by would be secretly thrilled. You loved to tease, and I loved to be the object of your attention.