They'd convinced him to come to the party, and then convinced him to try one of the new joints Reggie had just bought in New York yesterday. He'd only moved to Harding two weeks ago and he had been awful lonely until he'd met Jack and Paul at school last week. At the time though, it had seemed the best way to meet people. In fact, as the colored lights began to obscure the entire room at the other end of the tunnel, he began to wish he'd never let Jack and Paul talk him into coming to this party. He really shouldn't have let Paul talk him into it. This might not have been a good idea, thought Tom. The room seeming to telescope around him, sounds and faces appeared as if through a very long tunnel. He sat down on the couch behind him, rapidly. His stomach was beginning to dance in his middle. Which he thought, rather muddily, is what acid was supposed to do, not grass. The room was swaying around him and funny colored lights were dancing about the room. He'd never smoked any before, but people had told him what it felt like and this wasn't it. He wasn't really positive, but Tom was pretty sure that this wasn't what pot was supposed to feel like. A Treatise on The Hierarchy of The Abyss.Ī Treatise on the Nature of the Multiverse
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