my dad built a rickety ass treehouse in our front yard. it had no walls; only a flimsy railing and a tarp for a roof. my brothers and i would go up there to figure out our next move. it's openness made it a perfect transitory hub in the summer. occasionally one of my brothers would throw water balloons on me from it. naturally as we got older, it was neglected. then on some thanksgiving my brothers asked if i wanted to smoke weed in the tree house. we did. it was a moment i don't think i could live without.
