Part 1: The clock starts here

Puff. One hit. I was in. It wasn't my first nor was it my last. I was hooked. Finally it seemed clearer. The world showed it's beautiful colors. As orange as an orange could be. Bright lights of neon surrounding this dark city. This was early in the morning. The mist was still here waiting for the sunrise to squall them away.

I stood silence looking up to which I thought was the sky but in reality it was the white ceiling. The color of blue hidden in between the whiteness of the wall. My stomach growling, begging for someone to fill it with anything. It was at a time where you don't care what the hell is there to eat as long as it fulfills its natural needs. I took a box of cereal out from the food cupboard. Got out my bowl and filled it up till the cereal overflowed. Milk was then poured. It looked like if the Niagara falls upside down. It wasn't that pretty of a sight when I gorged upon these colorful rings of sweet wheat covered in the natural white color of the milk. It was like a marathon I had to finish. A dash to the finish line trying to beat the time. This was it. I was going for the world record of over excessive gorging. A gorge-a-thon. My friends became time as it slowed down for me. It stopped for me. Me.

After I gobbled up every few bits I sat down on the floor. There was this young guy sitting the opposite of me smoking some light cigeratte. It was George Harrison. With his liverpudlian accent he asked me if I wanted some. I shook my head. It was somehow a different George. His accent didn't sound scousers at all. I didn't care at the time. Why would I? I was sitting chatting with one of the fab four. We later chatted about their works and how he was never liked by the others. Their public image taking a toll on their apperception and psyche. He then said he had to go to work and left me there just sitting, waiting for something but couldn't get my mind around it.

I looked at the clock, it seemed crooked. What looked to be 3 o'clock was actually 6. "My hand was bigger" I thought to myself. It took awhile for me to see myself but when it did, it hit me that I had to go to work. Stumbling down towards the showers hitting everything in sight. Luckily we were a bunch of guys who didn't use a lot of money to buy furnitures. I showered and got changed. Got my bicycle out, protected myself with all of the pads and helmet. On the way to the door, my house mate stopped me and said, "one for the ride".


With my bicycle in hand, I looked to the door, turn to see the rumpled piece of paper stuffed with magical plantation and stood in silence.