"cousin"

Boots caked in mud and hay, she guides a chestnut horse out of the warm wood stall. Her face freckled across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose, a strand of her hair loose and hanging like the vines of the jungle and she tucks it swiftly behind one ear. I munch on a slice of watermelon, sitting on the top rail of the fence with my leg swung over, the yellow sweet flesh tickling my nose as I eagerly take too big of a bite. My headphones, slipping off one ear. are pushing out the rhythmic, intoxicating guitar of Argentinian folk songs, and with my eyes closed, I’m dipping my toes in the cool waters of the bluest lake I’ve ever seen - when a pair of hands push up on my collarbone, nearly unseating me from my perch. “Hey!” I cough, nearly choking on the sugary liquid…