We were a sort of pack, and when we came together, we had so much fun.
My cousins and I were the best of friends.
Our grandmother had brought us up on a farm. Our parents believed that was the best setting for us to grow instead of apartments in the city. Grandma loved having us there, and we always went to visit our parents once in a while. After high school, we all went our separate ways to pursue what we liked. I moved to Denver to start a business that grew and was doing so well. One of my cousins went to university abroad and the other to a local one. But we always kept in touch and went home to grandma whenever possible. However, it had been a long time since we visited one another. We got a chance to reconnect during the lockdown and promised to see one another often, no matter how busy we were. The first stop was Denver. They planned to come and visit me at the end of summer. I lived in a two-bedroom apartment and began preparing the guest room for their arrival. I knew it was futile trying to convince them I’d go get them from the airport. So, I stayed at home getting things ready and waited for a knock on my door. They didn’t knock. They burger into the apartment like they owned the place dragging their luggage and bags of cannabis products. I wasn’t surprised they had passed by the pot shop from the airport.