The following is an excerpt from Book 4 of LIVEONNOEVIL entitled Master Reset:
Gordo followed the sound until he came upon its source. In the corner of the last dead end, a mound of mushrooms as big as furniture supported the weight of a man laid atop them, his body sunk into their fungal flesh.
His face was covered by long dark hair and only his nose and lips parted the thin strands. He exhaled a long trail of smoke and then brought the hose of an ornate hookah to his mouth. Everything about the man was slow and Gordo watched him take his time, humming again with the smoke inside his lungs and pausing his song only to inhale or exhale.
It’d been maybe a minute, which meant maybe a year for Arms and the rest. He was at the end and this one was obviously stoned out his mind. He turned, but in response the man sat up into crossed legs on his mushroom stool.
“Who are you?” he said, his words slow and his hair still covering his eyes.
“I’m Gordo.” Any other answer than that just seemed unnecessary.
A sudden gush of blood to http://cute-n-tiny.com/tag/cupcakes/ purchase generic levitra these areas. It is essential to find a solution to flailing, failing erections as any of the events are hindered. check it out cheap viagra Injuries: wounds to the pelvis, bladder, spinal cord and male sex organ, which require surgery can cause male disorder. buy viagra on line Rapid change in emotional health, certain physical conditions, poor lifestyle, and smoking take a toll along with low testosterone level, low order cheap cialis sexual desires, and interpersonal cause. “You are…hmm…I meet you now for the first. Our next will be the last…” He drew deep from the hookah, his lungs expanding, rib cage flexing, and then sent the cloud for Gordo who backed away and tripped over a blossoming mushroom behind him. “They want you to sit…they want you to breathe…” He took another puff and laid the hose down on an orange spotted bulb head that grew to let it fall and be caught by the next, each mushroom passing to another until it was at Gordo’s fingertips. They rose to fill his weight and Gordo felt comfort in a way he had not in a millennium.
“Who does?” he asked picking up the hose. The mouthpiece was gold and Gordo wanted to try it. He tried to smoke weed once with Jamie, but it didn’t work and she teased him for not inhaling.
“The Rooms, Gordo…they want you.”
Gordo looked down the hose and saw the smoke snaking from the hole. “What is your name?”
“I am Loyal Languid.”
“I haven’t heard of you. Loyal to whom?” The mushrooms rose, possibly sensing his defiance, and pulled the hose out of his hand, cushioning it in a wave of mushroom heads back to Languid.
“The Rooms. Only the Rooms.”