I remember dancing across this floor many times last summer. I remember the scent of the flower garden reaching all parts of the property, steeping into my clothes in the drawer and my pillowcase, so that my hair smelled like flowers when I woke up. I remember running across 8 acres of land, and climbing trees and lying beside butterfly bushes and playing soccer in the corn field. I remember smiles and alcohol and loud, cheery voices and the lack of television or video games. I remember the frightening quiet after everyone had left, and it was just us. Alone on eight acres and two big houses and no noise. I remember bare feet, shorts, tank tops, bathing suits, and heat. I remember stepping on a bee hidden in the grass, I remember getting the worst sunburn of my life, I remember walking through Rodman's Hollow without any flashlights, expecting to encounter the devil at any moment. I remember acoustic guitars and crossword puzzles and startled deer.

But most importantly, I remember the feeling of absolute peace everyone shared, content to listen to the music playing or shoot the breeze with their housemates or play football out in the yard. I remember, one summer, I was freer than I've ever felt.