Chapter 10339

Outside and sitting on the back deck already hot cross-legged. Forward chest, deep breaths and closed eyes, hands on my thighs like sieves. Boards of splintered wooden currents and streams laid underneath me as I teetered between thinking and trying not to focus on my painful buttocks.

Spend most of my day sitting. Writing, playing video games, praying, riding a bike, and taking the bus. Shitting.

Enough already. Stood up. Went inside and to the galley to ingest five dried grams of mushrooms.

I don't remember the last time I removed sandwiches from a zip-lock bag. The golden capped, blue and white stemmed fruit lay in the bottom inert but dense with inter-dimensional wisdom. Or, you know. It's a poisonous fungus.

Either way, they smelled like dead leaves and tasted like tree bark, eons old. I sat on the circular table beside the west window, eating slowly. Flowers and pollen. Wind through an autumn grove. Had tried the first day, a week ago, just a few small doses and the psychoactive effects were highly manageable. Rode my bike thirty miles that day.


La La Land

Chapter 10226

A healthy buzz resides in mindful tasks, rich food, and exercise -- especially under the surprise sunshine, late afternoon, riding back from downtown. 

There's not much to write about when goings are regular. Stability and routine pass time along at such a gradual rate that you don't notice it's all gone until you're in your grave.

The Turquoise Lament

Chapter 10224

Changing a routine, for me, means no sleep the first night. Too much anticipation and coffee, with no chiefing or drinking to cheat insomnia. So I paced around, found an unread Travis McGee novel in my laundry basket, laid down my body on the fold-out couchbed.

Cracked that paperback open at midnight and didn't change position for seven hours by lamplight. Took a nap until eight and continued reading all morning.

At the last line of The Turquoise Lament I gasped, tossed the book in the trash by accident, tripped forward from bed onto knees and hands, thrashed the bundled pages out of miscellaneous shreds and clasped it, smacked it atop a stack of more books -- couldn't tell you the title of any except that one, the only one I'd finished.

I patted the turquoise book lightly, staring off. Got dressed in silence.

It was the first book in the series to have an epilogue, and it served only as an after-the-credits where our hero Travis loses the girl after all. As he always does through will or woe. Didn't have the next book, so I checked the lists on my desk.

There was only one. Nice.

My brother had returned in the early morning and still slept, so I crept from the building, carrying car keys.