we used to roll around as a trio. we were young, punk and untouchable. we were cool in a way that we didn’t fit in, like we came from a big city, or that’s where we were headed. like we knew things that others didn’t. like we lived in a world different from theirs. just passing through and everyone knew it. we were never bullies, thou if you crossed our path and got in our way, you certainly got bullied. there were a lot of kids around Bozeman who wanted to be our friends bad enough they would endure what ever we had to dish out. and then, it was a lot. our imagination and sky was the limit.

even I found myself handcuffed to a stop sign once.

when all three of us found ourselves in this town on a sunny Friday afternoon, we reminisced on the good old days, all the outfits we wore and all the drugs we did and embraced the love all three of us once shared. when we found ourselves standing there together, we remembered the connection that brought us together in the first place. each of us a little different now, but instantly when we got together again, it was like no time had passed. but it had been 13 years. zeb has grey hair, guthrie is balding, my hair is a normal color.

some of those kids we bullied are still around here today and when we rolled through town, all dressed in white you could imagine the shock of them seeing the three of us together again. we smile.