Eventually we landed at a small park and took to the lone picnic table there, after swishing the snow off the top. I was flying high.“We should’ve...brought some food,” Lara mused.“Tell me about it. You should just start storing your joints inside bags of chips or something.”She guffawed. “Like that would be subtle.”“Better than starving to death. I’m about to start eating the snow.”“Fine, but stay away from the yellow stuff.”“Ugh, Lara.”“Damn, Jonah’s weed is something else. I’m feeling totally. It was more of a reflex rather than an effort to avoid hishand, but he seized on the opportunity to grab a handful of my hair andpull me back into place, growling, "Get your ass back here!"I think it was this point that I started crying, but - and this is kindof hard to explain - it was more of a catharsis that a reaction to thephysical pain. I really believe that I was somehow exorcising all of thefrustration, disappointment, and humiliation of the entire conversionprocess, the broken. More

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