cousins skyburst777 we're all cousins 050610 ... skyburst777 : connected : 050610 ... ovenbird We have three hours to empty our pockets of all our hoarded family gossip. My cousin is passing through between flights. I pick her up at the airport and we get fish and chips on the dock. We salt our fries with secrets. Taste the vinegar tang of childhood trauma. Go back to the soda fountain for refills. There’s something oddly comforting about tracing back the origins of our inherited wounds. We laugh at the way we’ve been broken the same—look at all that shiny shame, passed down for generations! The grandparents we share are no longer here. We admit that we never visit their graves. Her parents and mine have adjoining cemetery plots, so one day they’ll be neighbours for eternity. On four different days we’ll stand next to each other while our parents are lowered into the ground. And when all four of them are jars of ash beneath a magnolia tree, we will find ourselves similarly unmoored from any concept of home. When we’re done dusting our respective psychoses I drive her back to the airport. “This was fun!” she says. And it was. 260424 what's it to you? who go blather from