Arrival at the Scallop Hotel

November 21st, 2015, 12pm

It was -5°C with broken clouds. There was moderate breeze.

You’re a tasty little treat, but I don’t have a linear understanding of causality. The world was spinning way to fast, even before I started drinking. I looked into the black between the stars, and stepped off the world. Floating from planet to planet, I stumbled across a taxi forever falling in the dark with dice hanging from the mirror. In my curiosity I entered looking to be taken to my bel air, but I was rather surprised when I glazed into the driver and saw myself. Then my vision cracked, revealing Jasper as the driver and the rest of my fellow shamans in the back. We lacked a map so we let busdriver take the wheel, which created a silence but only in one sense. We arrived in front of a two floored, white brick building with a sign that read “Scallop Hotel”. The manager said the building was packed due to a pizza party, but he could give us the roof if we would accept it. We split ways with busdriver, but not before he slipped us some slices. Lawn chairs, elixirs, bare mattresses, a view, and some banter. I reached the feeling I imagine King Dumile felt, so now it my time to return. I will get into my space balloon and while returning home I will sketch a treasure trail so I can return to this. It’s time to buy my own imaginary place, with a roof of grass for my electric sheep.


Victoria said thanks.

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Hunter McGregor

A sardonic presence that is probably late for something of unknown importance.

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