Back with a Bhang

Cee put on her oldest white top.

“This will do nicely” she thought to herself.

She was going over to her friends to play Holi.

It was just next door.

She didn’t have to worry about carrying a change.

She’d just come home and bathe and head back for lunch.

The festivities ensued.

The air, and subsequently, people, was filled with water, colour and other questionable things.

Music was played, screams were screamed and overall fun was had.

Bhang was made and consumed in small quantities.

Cee had never tried bhang. She knew it to be something alcohol like.
It wasn’t. She would realise this later.

She consumed the allotted amount and waited a short while.

She decided that it was not potent enough for one of her usual levels of consumption.

She had some more.

Nope.

She had some more again.

Nope.

Giving up, she continued with the festivities. Colour, screaming, water, and stuff up noses.

Then it was time for cleaning up before lunch.

The horde moved towards the bathrooms.

She went towards her own bathroom… at home.

“I’m so glad we’re neighbours” she thought to herself.

At home in the safety of her bathroom she undressed. She stepped into the shower and turned on the water.

That’s when the universe exploded.

Stars and diamonds and rubies and unicorns and fairies and cake.

Her body was a lump of cement and she sat on the floor.

But her head, it was magic.

Her mind travelled on far and wondrous journeys across galaxies and universes flitting like a butterfly here and there and returning for some semblance of sanity before flitting off across more oceans of starlight.

She had a purpose, she could see far into the distance, but she was wandering, and would return only in the fullness of time.

“This is what Gandalf felt like” her brain remarked offhandedly.

When her mind came together like cookie dough, she managed to clean herself up, stumble out of the shower and lie on the bed in her towel to pass into the next world.

An hour later the universe reassembled itself and all was well in the world.

“Wow, bhang is something. I must be more careful in the future” she thought to herself.

She went back over for lunch as she was ravenous.

She walked into the house as she usually did and said “Where’s the food! Did you guys start without me?”

Then she noticed no one was around. Her neighbour looked at her oddly.

“Cee, Holi was yesterday. We wondered where you had gone to.”

The implications of his statement struck her and as she realised she lost a whole day all she could do was stare at him with tears in her eyes and say:

“But…..??..... What about LUNCH????”

Souls!

He walked down the road.

Dreaming, staring at the trees, singing to himself a tune that came from nowhere.

Strangers passing by were confused.

But he didn’t notice. On he went oblivious.

He seemed happy, but he was pondering serious things.

Like truth, meaning and what that craving would be best satisfied by.

Step, step, high notes, step, step, low notes, step, step, stare, stare, step, step, deep pondering, step, step, jazz hands

Needless to say, he was a strange man.

“SOULS!” She screamed, jumping out at him seemingly from nowhere!

“SOULS!” She screamed again, a terrifying bone chilling scream, a mad look in her eye as she stared at him knowingly.

He recoiled in shock.

One, because she was screaming.

Two, because she was pointing at him ominously.

Three, because she was screaming about Souls, and really, hardly anyone does that nowadays.

He was shaken. No one had even screamed at him like that before.

No one had ever blatantly questioned the purity of his soul.

They had, however, questioned his cooking, and his hygiene, but not his soul.

He thought about his sins. All the horrible things he had done. And he was filled with shame and dread.

He hurried away, but her voice echoed in his mind long after that.
He went to confession, yet again, trying to relieve himself of the guilt.

It did not change much.
What is forgiven is already forgiven.

But as he left the church a strange question entered his mind, “Souls? Why plural?”
And he was plunged into further confusion.

She wandered the streets, diligently performing the task that was set to her.

She chose those that needed it, and she screamed at them in her terrifying voice, “SOULS!”

They all hurried away.

But her voice remained with them and they all re-evaluated their lives.

But she was never satisfied.

She continues to this day, searching for weary people, in obvious pain, and trying to sell them insoles.

Marzipan

“Wow, you have a fantastic forehead! Its so smooth! It’s almost like marzipan!”

“Why thank you!” Its my fathers.”

“Your fathers?

“Yeah I got it from my dad. Great forehead!”

“Oh, so it’s a family thing? Did all your siblings get your fathers forehead?”

“Don’t be silly. He only had one.

I took it from him one day when he was sleeping and stuck it on.

You should have seen me before this. My forehead was all sunken and wonky. I was … in a bad accident … Involving a gremlin.

Thank goodness I got a new one. And a much nicer one. It really suits me doesn’t it?”

“Yeah. It looks very tasty. I just want to bite it.”

“Ok. Just don’t take out any chunks. I don’t have any more replacements.”

“But, what about your dad? What did he use?”

“Fondant.”

“…… um… …Fondant?”

“Yes. Fondant.”

“That’s difficult to visualize.”

“Oh here’s a picture of my parents.”

“Oh how lovely. That IS a fantastic fondant forehead!

“Yeah. He quite likes it.”

“I can imagine.

“And so many decorative shapes and colours!”

“Yeah, he changes it with the seasons. The neighbourhood kids go crazy about it around Easter!”

“Haha. That sounds awesome.”

“It is. But mom says she can do without the attention in church.”

“I understand. Your mother is very pretty though. You have her eyes.”

“I know.”