Meg is my best friend. She has lived across the street from me since kindergarden. In 17 years we've never had a fight.
She would always say the greatest things like, "Let's promise to dance with each other everyday this week!" So we would go to the hot hip hop basement, and the peppy latin place on tuesday, and to the cowboy bar where we would dance our own way crazy together, like wild anemones in a sea of robot cowboy boots that clomp left right left in perfect unison. Sometimes we would just pull the car over wherever and open all the doors and turn the music up smashing and we'd spin around together, wiggling and giggling on the side of the road.
Whenever we would be walking around together Meg would always reach out for me so we could hold hands, it never mattered how old we were or who was around. She's always been so brave in how she loves the people around her.
Meglet and I have the best hi-fives. They're incredible. Su-per solid and loud and satisfying. Like, kablam! Perfect. They always feel like affirmations of a great friendship ~ in the same sort of way when you are falling in lovey love with someone and your kisses are perfect timing melting a la mode moments. Really solid connections <3
When her eyes got bad, and everything got dark and blurry. She would lie in the garden and I would kiss rose petals and lay one on each of her eyelids and we would wish for them to get better.
Meglet's hair is the color of salsa dancing, falling leaves, apple cider and cinnamon.
One day we drove all the way way out into the lonely prairie. Out there we found a place called the Wonder Tower. A forgotten castle filled with dusty treasures and curiosities. The walls were made of petrified wood, and abalones shells, painted with native american symbols. Rusty tools and rabbit furs covered the ceiling.
Inside the Wonder Tower we found many treasures, including this book; which really kept up to its title, because the inside was so wet and molded you couldn't read the words.