Short Fiction / January 10, 2020
In my most recent trip to the Peruvian jungle searching for new plant medicines to assist in my inner space adventures I happened upon a crystal valley guarded by great snakes who slither through non-linear time. After answering their riddles and befriending the youngest of these ancient snakes I was initiated into their guild, whenceupon I slew them and annexed their booty.
Now I’m back in New York with a trunk full of glistening gems, and I’ve noticed that merely by being in their presence I have been effected by their magical powers. I haven’t gained any powers myself, unless you consider peaceful silence and a glorious comfort with my own mind to be magical (and I admit that sometimes I feel like it is). I am slowly descending into a meditative trance, unbothered by my worldly troubles and unwilling to pull myself out of this reverie.
At first my lover was happy with the change in my attitude. I was no longer cutting her down with cruel remarks, as was my wont during my habitual drunken tirades. And I was content to spend an afternoon indoors, listening to music with her or making love in the afternoon. But then she said I was becoming distant, and slithering on the floor.
“Distant?” I asked. “Slithering? Well maybe, or maybe you’re too caught up in your fancy New York lifestyle to see what you really are: an awkward conceptual contraption built upon an ancient lizard-brain. Snort some of these crystals with me, my love, and we will see who sinks and who slithers.”