Somewhere outside of a bottle of a tequila, a monkey decided to grow wings and become a fairy of mass portions.
Little Rock was dying, Tulsa was next, America was a scene, somewhere outside reality, as I sat there, after taking a few edibles of various strength.
“Is this death?” Mary shouted from the top of the tower, leaning towards the right.
I shrugged as the world span out of control into the sun, seconds at a time.
It would seem the world would end in 30 billion years or a month, matters on how fast it could spin, fleeing, into that fiery ball of enraged senators.
Henry Parker, the man behind the illusion of reality, was sitting here too. His hands grasped the bottle of tequila like it was a religious experience.
“I saw Jesus back there!” Mary said as she settled back in the back seat of the car. She was high or so said her agent as he put her into the car.
Vegas, land of the unholy wild chief iguanas was boiling in its own skin.
“Beer!” Mary roared as she fled into the casino.
We never saw her again.
WANDERING WHERE I AM GOING! 