Origins pt. 1

The night I met you it seemed like you lived somewhere way out in the country. Ryan drove down narrow two lanes bordered by old fences enclosing green fields in the evening damp haze of August. It didn’t seem like we could still be in Fairfax surrounded by all this open space, having temporarily forgotten how much ruralness there still was in the county. Ryan had an arm out the window, the other hand held a fag and a wheel, and he played a tape from John Denver’s lamentable reggae phase. We were on our way to you, and I had no idea who you were except that he had said you were something special.