The Library - Second Story

The smoke was so thick Gwen couldn’t gather herself enough to understand where she was at first. She could feel the gentle touch of her guide’s hands on her shoulders, but she was still deep inside an inner world she couldn’t bear to leave.

The contours of the house, so familiar to her by now, began to dissolve, putting her into a deep panic, no doubt enhanced by the effects of her ‘traveling’ tea.

“Gwen,” a voice as if from very far away enticed her, “you have to come back now, return to your life, to those who need you.”

‘Who is this and what on earth is he talking about?’ Gwen tried to gather herself. ‘This is my life,’ she watched, with increasing anxiety, how the thick walls of the house kept melting and morphing and changing colors.

‘I’m high,’ she thought, calm. ‘I must have ingested some of that toxic looking green brew somehow,’ she continued her musing, aggravated her psychedelic experience was so humdrum.

“Listen to my voice, Gwen,” the discarnate voice insisted. “Find the door. Look for the door.”

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