The Unsecret Friendship of S and J. A Collection, of Unsecret Affairs.

I am a chocolate brownie fan, and J knew full well that I would devour at least four before thinking to ask if J had added anything extra special to the mix. Of course, by then, it was too late. I had to be escorted out of the public lounge, as I started blowing out snot bubbles in between each snort of laughter. Much to J’s amusement. We were both severely reprimanded by the on site manager. Both didn’t care. At all.

Inseparable and impossible to slow down, as a duo we had been testing the limits of immaturity with each passing year – with a vigor that would put most youth to shame. Long since past trying to maintain any dignity, we had become accustomed to the disapproving looks and the brushes with the law. Fortunately for us, two senile old women spend less time in lock up and more time teaching other cell mates how to knit nooses with the assigned polystyrene knitting needles.

Happy bunch of old ducks.

• Suspenders, awkward but on – CHECK
• Bright red lipstick generously applied, so as to leave marks on all unwilling parties – CHECK
• Money folded neatly and tucked into cleavages – CHECK
• Matching tattoos that used to look like infinity signs, but now looked more like a 4 year old drew on us in passing.
• Foul mouths – ready to launch – CHECK.

Having been arrested several times for possession and what would have been aggravated assault  with intent to to grievous bodily harm on more than a dozen occasions, we became a house hold name. And rightly so. We have been friends for as long as we remember, and there is much to be admired in that. When two minds fall in sync and align at the perfect moments in any given situation, there is an invincibility in that. A force, not to be tampered with.

As young women we had each others backs in peculiar but effective ways. This came in handy fairly often, as be were both trouble magnets and some how managed to need immediate evacuation type rescuing on more occasions than we would care to recall. We did however admit once, and once only that we were in fact the common denominators in all the chaos left in our wakes. Our awesome and magical, but still chaotic wakes.

To each other though, we are anchors, and life jackets. Flawed perfection in it’s simplicity. Differences embraced with whole hearts – because time weathered us at the same steady pace. We became fighters when we were once the tiny handed girls who wove flowers together as gifts for the world as tokens of peace, before we learned that peace was seldom a gift offered up with out heavy sacrifice.

But with more surety than much else, we know with out any doubt – that the skies can blacken and the storms can roll in like flammable thick clouds, suffocating and toxic, and we will remain, stood beside each other, braced and ready for whatever, or whoever may come.