Farewell

wannabe

Mom: Miguel, cuando es que te vas para la isla de Calypso?
Boy: Maňana.
Mom: Como te va en los examenes?
Boy: I failed them all.
Mom: Ya mandaste las cajas a storage?
Boy: La recogen esta noche.
Mom: Ahora no, pero cuando me pagen el lunes te puedo pasarte un poco de dinero. Se que no te he podido ayudar leste aňo pero tu sabes como las cosas son con tu padre. Pero dime la verdad de los examenes.
Boy: Sera’ cuando salgan las notas.
Mom: De Calypso vienes directamente a Miami o tienes que parar en Los Angeles? No tienes ni una idea de como salistes y si pasastes el aňo?
Boy: I don’t know how I did but I know I didn’t pass.
Mom: Well let’s wait and see what happens.
Boy: It’s okay. I’ve been saving up cash from my second job as a stripper.
Mom: Let me know where you work so I can charge money at the entrance. Tia Yani is picking me up to go to the movies and to eat for my belated birthday. Am I going to be able to call you and talk to you when you’re in Calypso? Today was Carol’s last day in school and she’s going to Alfie’s prom.
Boy: I know I talked to her earlier. I don’t know if phones work on Calypso. Either way it probably won’t be on.
Mom: Well at least send smoke signals so that I know you’re okay.
Boy: If I don’t return you’ll know I either hopped off a cliff or living with hippies.
Mom: You are already a hippie. Anyways I hope you enjoy the trip. I hear Calypso is mystifying. Take care and be good. Love you.

SMIDGET OF FACT:
... contrary to popular belief
invisible cats do hibernate ...


cya

Going to Sleep (end)

One thing I could never stand is someone in a position of authority, desperate for control, taking advantage of people. And this, my friends, is where one of my tragic flaws, acting without thought, took a hold. The police arrived and were being rude, and very menacing. They held a grudge against every single person left in the apartment, even though they knew that no one there had a part in it. It was intolerable. I started acting up, running circles around the pigs mind, and throwing comments that were meant nothing more but to belittle him. Towards the end I felt sorry for the guy but my dislike for his lack of consideration took a hold of me, and I myself became inconsiderate. Melissa was getting angry. It did not click in my head that she would be the one to pay for my actions. Once I reached the limit I stopped, but the cop kept on going. He knew he had me in an unmovable place and used his authority to undermine my way of thinking. I gave it up, swallowed my pride (whatever that means) and retired. The owners of the apartment however were left to deal with angry swine. Despite her anger Melissa displayed one of her unique qualities, courage. She went outside and cooled the situation with the cops, and then returned, relieved that nothing had happened but angry that something could have potentially happened to her. I put her and my future in jeopardy. The thought of that was disturbing. Guilt flooded my mind and with one into her eyes I knew that there was a bit of tension.

Gerald showed up. Time had cured him and Diana. But a short moment of time had jeopardized me and Melissa's friendship. Time is life’s greatest cure. But every second that hurts requires a century to fix. It is a slow acting remedy. Diana and Gerald’s time had come, mine and Melissa’s was far beyond sight.

In striking contrast to the night before, I went home. People came over and were drinking and Rushing the night away. The music was blasting and the sun was peaking over the horizon. They were having a blast; I was no where near their level of excitement. I got even more frustrated when Dickweed, one of the people there, crossed out Melissa’s name from our wall and wrote “die” under it. That was the last thing she deserved that night so I made him white it out. He did a shitty job and I finished it. Angrily I went to bed.

The comfort which slid me to sleep the night before was so desperately needed but definitely not present. I enjoy mental pain, it makes me stronger and allows me to cope with similar situations more easily, but this was torture. Alcohol tends to bring out a very depressive person in you. It changes your way of thinking, you blame things on yourself and act without thinking. It also keeps you awake and makes you drowning your discomfort. This, in addition to the ruthless sun was more than a match for me. I knew the only way out was to sleep. But sleep was nowhere to be found. The pounding music, the sun, and thinking about the events of the night had driven it away. Every second felt like an eternity and I was trapped in the middle of discomfort.

Human beings, despite some belief, are interconnected. Every action done has some effect on everyone else good or bad, whether you like it or not. If there is anything to be learned from this story it’s that. Watch what you do. Think before you act. Time is limited, and though it is a remedy, there might not be enough of it left to cure you.

-Spring '03

quick Question

What good is a gubernment that can't concede its faults and actively conceals its tactical errors by creating a reality of falsehoods?

quick Answer

Not good at all!




quick Question

What good is a plant that makes you cough up a colon and chase your squirlly tail around and around in circles searching for the Green African Jumbo Jungle Momma God Queen Goddess of hot Amazon Love?

quick Answer

Damn good! (under the proper circumstances)



quick Question

What are we to take from all of this?

quick Answer

Plant Seeds and Fuck the Gubernment (or come to Crescent Beach where you can fuck seeds and plant the gubernment)

listen ...

... the soap knows

Going To Sleep (cont)

The air was not as cold tonight. I had gone home to take a nap and was awaiting Melissa’s call to go fill up two kegs for the party. General Rabbi went to see a band play and I was left alone. Melissa finally came and we filled up the shells. They were off to the clubs, something I never mind missing, and I went to Gerald’s. Diana and Gerald still had a bit of tension, as their problems were not resolved from the night before. When I got to Gerald’s there were a couple of friends from Tallahassee that came down to kick the crap out of some guy. Make love not war I preach but sometimes emotions bring out the ugliness in people. In our culture when manhood is questioned manhood is defended and these people definitely wanted to prove something. Somehow I ended up going to the club with them and it was a good choice.

Being dragged to a place you don’t belong is not a fun thing. Your mood changes, you want to leave, and you question your way of thinking for ever throwing yourself into that situation. Now being dragged into a place you don’t belong and finding Melissa there is a different story. Remember, she manipulates, turns frowns into smiles, and after seeing her there a smile was inevitable. A conversation began, a dance followed. Mind you I have never danced in my life. I didn’t like it. Never been good at it. But the situation was unavoidable. When a good friend asks you to dance with her, you dance with her and putting aside all thoughts of embarrassment I did, not very good, but it’s the thought that counts. The club ended. It was time to get fucked up.

This is when the night turned around, and not even Melissa’s charm could prevent what was going to happen. When you combine a lot of people with alcohol two things can come out of it. Either the whole party flows in unison, a fine rhythm of happiness back dropped with a melody of laughter. Or an epic disaster that even Pandora can’t control ensues. Well Pandora’s Box definitely did not hold this party together. Those people that were looking for their man to fight found him conveniently standing outside the neighbor’s apartment. And with a swift move, fate left the side of their victim and landed in the laps of the attackers.

One man attacked at first and then three more, all eagerly awaiting their chance at revenge (if you can call it that, the origins of the scuffle were not clear). More jumped in and there was definitely nothing that could be done to save the boy. It ended with sadistic laughs and a roar of the “manhood” they were defending. The victim lay lifeless on the floor, no friends to help him. And everyone went back into the party.

One angry friend showed up and the attackers went after him, but nothing happened. It was clear the cops were going to appear so with the swiftness of the wind those involved vanished. The angry friend did not, though. He was furiously screaming at Diana, blaming the whole incident on her. I wish I could have defended her but I have had previous problems with the boy and did not want to aggravate the situation. Besides Diana knew it had nothing to do with her. When there is nobody around to blame people point the finger at the easiest target, it makes them feel like a man. Little does that boy know that he pointed the finger at one of the strongest people there. A waste of words for she was not affected.

Going to Sleep (cont)

Our arrival to Melissa's apartment was eagerly anticipated. Almost everyone gave a sigh of relief when they saw us hauling a huge canister of beer through the door. I looked around. There were many familiar faces, most of which I had not seen since I came to college. I spotted my good friend Diana, which also happens to be Melissa's roommate. My best friend Gerald was not with her. An odd sight being that they had been dating for about a year. Something, I sensed, was up.

The daze began. Drink combined with Rush, smiles with laughs, a rollercoaster of beautiful emotions inevitable when exploring a different state of mind. Gerald showed up and went directly into Diana’s room. There was a pinch of sadness in her eyes and a bit of tension in the air. She pulled me outside and told me she did not know what was wrong. Nasty vibrations had followed her and Gerald throughout the day and she had no idea how to handle it. There was an undeniable awkwardness between the two. I went and spoke to Gerald. He said he was feeling sick and also felt the tension. I suggested they should talk things over, honestly. If ever there was a cure to a dying friendship it was honesty. And so they spoke.

Faces appeared and disappeared throughout the evening. Most of which I had no desire talking to. In fact out of the four people I could hold a steady conversation with in that apartment two (Diana and Gerald) were ironing out differences, Burt had left, and Melissa was trying to keep the house in order. So I was left to myself.

It was getting late. People were unwanted in the apartment, only they did not get the hint. After a gauntlet of mean stares they finally decided it was time to go. Milljoy and I retired to her bed, the safe haven of the house.

“You know what’s weird?” I asked her.

“Tell me.”

“I’ve noticed that we have had a pretty good relationship since we came back from vacation. You are someone I really feel comfortable talking with. It’s strange because I never really open up to anyone. But I think it’s cool.”

“Yea I know. I never saw this coming. It just blind sided us.”

“What’s even better is that it’s purely friendship. Most of my problems with lady friends have been that started hooking up and everything just falls apart from there. I guess it’s the game. You constantly try to outwit your partner that it becomes a competition rather than a friendship and all honesty is lost.”

“I agree. I don’t think we should hook up. It will preserve what we’ve built up to this point.”

Right after that we embraced each other in our arms and drifted to sleep. Dawn’s rays had no effect on me then, for I was in the hands of comfort. Two comrades of the night bypassing the day with much to look forward to. For tomorrow there was going to be another party. Little did we know what was in store.

Going to Sleep

There is something uncomfortable, even almost upsetting about going to sleep when the sun comes up. An endless battle begins inside your head. The lack of sleep causes thoughts to race through your mind, faster than can be digested. Things that took place hours before feel like they happened a lifetime away. Your body twists and turns but is unable to find its pleasant spot because there is always a beam of light aimed straight at its eyes. A very unpleasant situation, to say the least, but an unavoidable one.

If there was any recurring pattern this weekend, it was just that. Every night ended at the sight of Dawn’s gentle rays pouring in through the windowsill. A comfortable setting if I lived in some sort of fairy tale, but not even I was so lucky. Insomnia fuses with the hangover that never quite catches up to you because you haven’t fallen asleep yet. Your eyes are fighting to stay closed but the your mind picks up a disturbance and you quickly open them, just once, to catch a glimpse of what is outside your dreams, but it just ends up starting the sleeping process all over again. It was madness, in its purest form.

So there we were, my roommate General Rabbi and, I in the living room of our house drinking the beer we had purchased earlier. It was a very quiet night and the hardships of the day were being eased by the ever present buzz of alcohol. We started to get silly, laughing at anything that came to our heads and converting our thoughts into deep philosophical tangents. The record temperatures left us with nothing else to be done. So we made the best out of it, as we so often do, and accepted the fact that there was no future in our night.

It was when all hope was lost that it showed up, in the form of a phone call. On one side of the conversation it was me, eager at the possibilities which could arise. For it was not just any ordinary caller, it was my friend Melissa Milljoy, and with her, there were no barriers to having fun. Melissa was the type of girl that walks into a party and is noticed right away. She is attractive and casts a deadly smile, complemented by the sparkling gloss of her long dark hair. But looks were of no interest to me in her case. It’s her ability to manipulate any situation which is her forte. She has the power to turn the worst of times into the best, a true proprietor of life. And that was her driving force, life. She was overflowing with it, to the point that if you walked by her you could almost notice the taste of joy in the air. She truly lived up to her name. So as you can imagine I was excited that she called.

“Hey Michael, I hope you are ready?”

“Always am. What’s the deal?”

“Well I’m on my way to pick you and Rabbi up and then we are going to get a keg.”

“Never a dull moment is there?”

“Never!!!”

And just as Jesus saved humanity from damnation, Melissa came and swooped us from boredom and threw us into a stew of potential. I put on some clothes, grabbed my Braves hat, a bottle of Rush, just for fun, and of we were into the endless possibilities of the night.

These are Morgan Woodchuck's Last Words


"Baby, I'm Comming Home"

I'm Morgan Woodchuck
Baby is Queen Sophia;
Home is the inner chamber
of Peak Victoria;
and Comming, of course, is...
...well, we all know what that is.

These Are Not Morgan Woodchuck's Last Words

I have your little nurse pants
they're in the oven
next to a pizza crust
and you're not getting them back
so I hope you don't missem
cuz in seconds they'll be ash
that i'm going to rub
all over my bare body
before going to war
in the deep Pacific
against a stranger's enemy
who eats noodles
and buttered toast
and children's dreams
for breakfast
wiping the chin drip
clean
with a dirty kitchen knife
rusted at the edge

DEATH BY OVEN

Married to Shadow (II)

In the next stanza Plath’s imagery attacks the figures character. With the use of subtle sarcasm the speaker wonders whether perhaps the figure considered himself “an oracle, Mouthpiece of the dead, or of some god or another." Already having discovered in the previous stanza that the figure's voice is shallow and annoying it is now understood that this shallow and annoying voice thinks itself blessed. This further frustrates the speaker because she works hard to build the monument but it is not representative of the figure at all. She has to "dredge the silt” from his throat, a task that has taken her “thirty years,” a significant portion of a lifetime dedicating to the service of someone she probably hasn't even seen.

The distinct contrast between the monumental figure and the tiny, powerless speaker is solidified in the third stanza. The imagery used constructs for the speaker a mammoth structure needing to be scaled by relatively tiny ladders. One can easily imagine the speaker dull and tired with her gluepot scurrying about the structure mending "the immense skull-plates" and clearing “the bald, white tumuli of” the figure’s eyes. Plath stresses the monotony of the speaker’s dreary life by making the whole stanza one long sentence.

The third stanza also opens up the symbolism between the monument and the land the speaker lives in. Though literally she does crawl "over the weedy acres of” his brow while fixing the structure, she figuratively does so in her life as the speaker is tangled in the figure's polluted reign.

A predestined cursed fate is presented when Plath alludes to the “Oresteia” in the fourth stanza. The Oresteia is a Greek tragedy in which the house of Atreus cannot escape a curse of death and sorrow. Like the members of the house, the speaker too is cursed, unable to escape her insignificance in the world and forced to do the will of an arcane tyrant as "pithy and historical as the Roman Forum." By mentioning that the same sky falls over both the tyrant and the speaker, Plath extends the idea that it is the same fate which dooms the speaker and tries to immortalize the figure. The speaker also refers to the monument sarcastically as “father,” further implicating that she is at his will, even though she is aware of his gilded glory. Plath crystallizes the speaker's doomed fate when she says that the speaker eats "lunch on a hill of black cypress." This line also darkens the speaker’s land.

The connection between the giant monument and the speaker's world becomes almost indistinguishable when Plath writes "Your fluted bones and acanthine hair are litters in their old anarchy to the horizon line." With these powerful words it becomes clear that the land is poisoned by the figure’s turbulent presence, A presence which drowns the speaker. Plath then compares the figure's presence to a naturally destructive force and takes away from the force's impact by increasing the terror of the terror. She mentions that his destruction is wide spread, needing "more than a lightning stroke to create such a ruin."

It becomes clear that the speaker and the figure are so intertwined that she cannot have any time to herself. Even though at night she squats "out of the wind," she is still in the “cornucopia of” his “left ear.” This reinforces that his grip on her, though a bit looser, is still secure. It is on these moments that the speaker contemplates her existence, "counting the red stars and those of plum color." She notes that though the figure's life is grand and set, hers are "married to shadow." It is at this moment that the speaker loses hope. “No longer do I listen for the scrape of a keel,” she says, ”on the blanc stones of the landing.” With these ending words Plath leads us to believe that the speaker, fully aware of her condition, has become so burdened and unenthused that she no longer cares whether she lives or not. The fate that brought her there, like the figure, is in control of her life.

Sylvia Plath’s vivid imagination draws readers into a world of disillusion in “The Colossus,” where a lonely and powerless speaker is at the will of a harsh ruler. The sharp contrast between the two characters in the poem is eloquently portrayed through the use of detailed imagery and carefully constructed language.

Special K

Michael Martinez: Yoooo!
Melissa Milljoy:Waddupp
Michael Martinez:Howz it hanging homie?
Melissa Milljoy: ehhh…Day by day. How about you?
Michael Martinez: Studying for Real Property with music and no books.
Melissa Milljoy: Sounds Like a Ball. I had Real Property on Thursday.
Michael Martinez: Real Property?
Melissa Milljoy: Yessir.
Michael Martinez: I had Kontracts on Thursday.
Melissa Milljoy: Me too!
Michael Martinez: It was the worst thing ever. Wow so you get two in a day?
Melissa Milljoy: I meant this Thursday. hehe my bad.
Michael Martinez: oh cool. I got Real Property on Monday, Criminal Politics on Wednesday and Civil Ethics on Friday.
Melissa Milljoy: Ouch! When do you go home?
Michael martinez: I''ll be home may 28
Melissa Milljoy: Truuuu. So you'll be home for our birthday
Michael Martinez: Haha… yea! 23 shotz my friend … 22 for me … but I’ll take 23 … unless we’re still following the plan … of one shot an hour … then it’d be 24.
Melissa Milljoy: That’s a great plan.
Michael Martinez: Yea, and that’s just one clause of the entire deal. There was also the blunt provision.
Melissa Milljoy: LAUGHING OUT LOUD …… I validate that clause!
Michael Martinez: blunt(s)* …. It’s just been modified.
Melissa Milljoy: I concur!
Michael Martinez: … and we’ll need party hats …
Melissa Milljoy: … and bacon
Michael Martinez: Isee this turning out to be a heck of an engagement with very elastic possibilities
Melissa Milljoy: It’ll be an open K.
Michael Martinez: It'll be a special K.
Melissa Milljoy: Hehe.
Michael Martinez: Our very own special K. It's almost groundbreaking. You should write a journal article on it. The Platonic Kontract.
Melissa Milljoy: I think it could work.
Michael Martinez: Open to two parties who already have a level of trust with each other allowing the Kontract to evolve and expand at the command of their sovereign wills. Anyways, the party’s gonna be fun. And everyone around us is gonna have a good time too.

Melissa Milljoy Oh for sure; that’s the plan.
Michael Martinez: It'll be like contagious Joy! Like mills of Joy … that just spread by the smile.
Melissa Milljoy: Haha, that’s meee! It’s air borne
Michael Martinez: The more the better
Melissa Milljoy For sure.
Michael Martinez: When do you get back from Espaňa
Melissa Milljoy: June 26.
Michael Martinez: Cool … I saw a show on Machu Pichu the other day.
Melissa Milljoy: … uuuu, I’ve been there. Love that place!
Michael Martinez: Have u ever spent the night there?
Melissa Milljoy: Yup ate coca leaves and everything!
Michael Martinez: Oh, tell your mom happy birthday…
Melissa Milljoy: Tell yours too
Michael Martinez: Sure thing. Are the leaves better than coffee?
Melissa Milljoy: Damn right!
Michael Martinez: Can u make a tea?
Melissa Milljoy: Yup. That’s what you usually take.
Michael Martinez: Wow! I see a very promising future for this plant I wonder why people haven’t put it to use already.
Melissa Milljoy: Hmm … illegality seems to be a problem.
Michael Martinez: Ah, fuck that problem!
Melissa Milljoy: Agreed. Okay well reality is knocking at my door (my friend from Kontracts is here).

Michael Martinez: Good Luck! And to hell with the real Kontracts.
Melissa Milljoy: l Ha! Alright, talk to ya later. Stay fly.
Michael Martinez: Peace … I’m flyin’ right now.
Melissaa Milljoy Euphoric.

Michael Martinez: Damn Right!

sylvia plath

The Colossus

"I shall never get you put together entirely,
Pieced, glued, and properly jointed.
Mule-bray, pig-grunt and bawdy cackles
Proceed from your great lips.
It's worse than a barnyard.
Perhaps you consider yourself an oracle,
Mouthpiece of the dead, or of some god or
other.
Thirty years now I have labored
To dredge the silt from your throat.
I am none the wiser.

Scaling little ladders with glue pots and pails
of lysol
I crawl like an ant in mourning
Over the weedy acres of your brow
To mend the immense skull plates and clear
The bald, white tumuli of your eyes.

A blue sky out of the Oresteia
Arches above us. O father, all by yourself
You are pithy and historical as the Roman
Forum.
I open my lunch on a hill of black cypress.
Your fluted bones and acanthine hair are
littered

In their old anarchy to the horizon-line.
It would take more than a lightning-stroke
To create such a ruin.
Nights, I squat in the cornucopia
Of your left ear, out of the wind,

Counting the red stars and those of plum-
color.
The sun rises under the pillar of your tongue.
My hours are married to shadow.
No longer do I listen for the scrape of a keel
On the blank stones of the landing."

Married to Shadow

In “The Colossus,” by Sylvia Plath, the author takes the reader to grim world where a powerless speaker lives in the shade of a monumental figure. The sharp contrast between the poem’s two characters is explored through Plath’s meticulous control of language that spawns intense imagery, overloading the reader’s senses, which are now at Plath’s disposal. The themes of hopelessness and being overshadowed by an arcane ruler are easily uncovered in the author’s subtle sarcasm and subordinate tone.

“The Colossus” quickly begins with a hint of despair. The speaker, a person working on a distant figure’s monument, tells the reader that the figure she is working on will never reach completion in her lifetime. It is also learned that the speaker has contempt for the figure as it is noted that his words are “worse than a barnyard.” In the next stanza the figure’s “great lips” are said to be a “mouthpiece of the dead,” regurgitating the prophecies of gods. His self- proclaimed sate of high importance does little, however, to impress the speaker who labors under his reign.

Without any desire to do so, the speaker languidly works to fix the giant colossus. She scales “little ladders with gluepots and pails of Lysol.” Her presence relative to that of the monument is miniscule even though the same sky carpets them both. The clumsy reign of the figure, though already over, can still be felt in the land as his “fluted bones and acanthine hair are littered in their old anarchy to the horizon –line" and the damage he created is worse than lightning striking the ground.

It is in this chaotic landscape, full of uncertainty, that the speaker ponders her destiny, "counting the red stars and those of plum-color.” She comes to the realization that the figures shadow is too large for her to escape and loses hope, not caring much more for her future.

Sylvia Plath makes use of many literary devices to create the dim world the speaker lives in. In the very first stanza she introduces the two characters of the poem, the speaker, who we learn is trying to complete a monument of the second character, the figure. Sylvia’s speaker always refers to herself in the first person, making the connection between the reader and the speaker more personal. Furthermore the speaker always refers to the figure in the second person, a technique the author uses to increase the gap between the speaker and the figure, making their relationship distant and cold.

Plath’s language, from the start, hooks the reader into the segregated environment that shapes the rest of the poem. The speaker realizes that she "shall never get you put together entirely. Her use of the words "Pieced, glued, and properly jointed," serve to show the reader the immensity of the task that is forced upon the speaker. The colossus is large and thus has many parts that need to fit together nicely, a job too large in scale for the speaker.

Not only does Plath attach an impossible job to her speaker, she makes the speaker irritated as she strives to complete it. With detailed imagery aimed at priming frustration, the speaker is constantly surrounded by the figure’s “Mule-bray, pig-grunt and bawdy cackles.” She compares the figure’s aura to the auditory chaos of a barnyard bringing an atmosphere of discomfort the already daunting workplace. Mentioning the figure’s disjointed voice also characterizes him as disorganized and senseless.

... to be contined ...

The World's Most Dangerous Road (end of detour)

“Doctor! I thought the medicine would work.”

“Yes. Medicine work. One more thing to do. You and Tim must jump in river. River cleanse body. Then everything okay.”

“In the river? Are you crazy old man? It’s freezing.”

“No river, no Tim. Now go!”

Jason reluctantly pulled Tim to the river’s edge and told him to get in. Tim dipped his toe in the water and shook his head, refusing to jump. It must have been bitter cold.

“I hope you forgive me for this Tim. But I need ya back my friend.” Jason pushed Tim hard. He fell into the river with a splash. Jason joined him soon thereafter. The water was paralyzing. No. Wait. It wasn’t that bad. It was actually pretty warm; and for some reason it was getting warmer. Why? What on Earth could it be?

Jason had a flashback to Kauai.

“Oh God. Tim. The stream fish. Nooo!”

“What’d you say Jason?”

o0o0O Seek Candy O0o0o

The World's Most Dangerous Road (almost there)

Jason pinched his nose and swallowed the drink in one gulp. Then he fed Tim his share. The with doctor brought out a small pig skin drum and started playing it with a eucalyptus stick. The beat knocked Jason into a trance. He felt heavier and heavier and heavier until he couldn’t move. His vision tunneled as the dark of night seeped into his mind. The eucalyptus stick lay at the end. It was talking, telling him to go to sleep. Jason obeyed and fell into a dream. There were papyrus leaves everywhere. Seth Hollow was writing all over them.

After what seemed like hours (nobody could tell), the medicine man tapped Jason awake with the stick. Outside the sun had come up. He was relieved to see Tim walking around.

“Tim. Tim. You’re okay.”

“Pfaaaaaaf”

The World's Most Dangerous Road (cont)

“What is wrong with friend?,” the old man asked.

“He was knocked unconscious by an alpaca. The doctor said he was just sleeping. When he woke up, well, look.”

“Pfaaaaaaaaaaaf”

“Ah, yes. I see this once before. Spirit of friend and spirit of alpaca tie together. Only medicine of plant bring back to normal. I study medicine since young boy. You want? Yes?” Suddenly it all clicked. Jason had heard of these types of folk before. Witch doctors they were called. He was skeptical but what else could be done? After all they were thousands of miles away from home.

“Just fix him please.”

“You want medicine too?”

“Oh what the hell. I’m not going to let Tim do this alone.”

The old man set a pair of cups in front of the two friends. There was a strange brown liquid mysteriously brewing inside. One sniff almost made Jason puke.

“Okay, now drink. You may feel a little funny.”