When you moved back, you seemed so tired. Whatever spark you'd had before was missing. You told me that you had been stabbed multiple times by a neighbour and spent months in the hospital. All the buoyancy of youth had left you; the spirit in your eyes had gone flat.
Without a word, you sat down next to me on the lawn behind the row of sales tents, handed me a huge slice of watermelon, and lit up a joint for us to share. We smoked and ate and watched people hover around imported and handmade baubles beneath stilted canopies.