He prepared the bong
We were ready to go
We had read something about falling off the Earth backwards
So we had tied rope blocking the metal stairs which led to my bedroom
“Remember,” he said, “do one big hit.”
“Ok,” I replied.
He went first and the water bubbled noisily
Just then his wife drove in the driveway
“Oh shit,” I said.
He turned to see her
“Don’t worry,” he managed to say, with very little breath. “Just hurry up!”
So I did my big hit
But as I was doing it, I could see her walking towards us
He started bursting into noisy laughter
He put his head down into his hands
And just kept laughing hysterically
“Little men!” he shouted
“Dude, she’s coming!” I manged to say
But then the burned plant was in my bloodstream
And I became the couch that we were sitting on
He became the wall
His head would sometimes pop out
And then it would disappear back into the wall
She came in and sat on me
The light from the heater was stabbing at my legs and it was annoying
As was her voice
She was asking me something
I tried to answer her but to speak I had to work the two lips of the couch open wider
And it was not easy
Eventually, I just gave up and let the couch snap back into its usual position
She was laughing at me and my inability to speak
Then it started to wear off
And thousands of little men put the fake world back together again
Then I was back on the couch
Feeling clear, and talking to his wife about her day