Underneath me, there’s something soft, and distinctly un tile-like.
It feels like the blood is rushing to my head. Am I upside down?
Dare I open my eyes?
One eye first, then the other, try to ease into the shock.
It’s a bad idea. There is no easing into the shock.
I’m lying on grass with my head pointing down a hill. I’m staring at the inverted fields of purple grass that flow off to the horizon where the sky gently sways in the breeze.
I must have hit my head harder than I thought.
I hear the unmistakable farting of a 1960’s VW combi van and sit up; It’s another bad Idea. My head pounds in time with the engine sputter .
I watch as the psychedelic van pulls up nearby, its swirling colours join the throbbing and I think I’m going to be sick.
I hear my own voice call out. “You okay Man? You don’t look so good.”
I look up to see that it’s me driving the combi.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” I tell myself.
“Well don’t spew up here or the A.B.’s will give you a body seach you’ll never forget.”
“A.B’s” I ask.
“Antibodies, dude, get with it.Get in,” I say to myself, “you shouldn’t be in here”
“What? I shouldn’t be in where? What is this place?”
“Your head, stupid” I answer. “You can’t be in here. Get in the van before the thought police get here.You’ve got to get out of your mind man.”
“I think I already am.”
This is going to get worse before it gets better, I just know it.
Did I say that out loud.