Soon, the small pile of split wood was a good size, and I held up my hand."That should be enough." Ok. Get carrying." She moved towards the house, dro...ping the axe in the wet soil."HEY!" I sputtered."Yes?" She turned, smirking at me. Her white t-shirt was slightly mud spattered, with small bits of wood and the obvious residue of sweat on it as well."Please help?" I asked nicely, retrieving the axe and placing it back on the woodpile. I grabbed at one corner of the tarp, and waited. “I don’t know—it’s still a drug to me,” she said. She never complained about my smoking it, a sign of her liberalism, but she had never asked for any.“Nonsense,” I said. This stuff is extremely mild. Nothing, in fact, could have been further from the truth. “Come on, I’ll show you,” I said. My mom always wanted to be perceived as liberal, so she went ahead and took. It took a few minutes to get her to hold it in her lungs, but after a while, she was able to. We both fell silent then. She and I. More

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