I took my seat on the train this morning, and the walls around me became like liquid silk, undulating and breathing, softly whispering strange incantations that my mind responded to on an E.S.P. kind of level.
The seat I was sitting on dissolved like desert sands made of a delicate, sherbet-like substance, and I fell through time and space, like a feather weighted with a million tiny gold particles. My eyes blinked, and with each reopening, a new colour came into existence, colours never hitherto perceived by the human eye.
And so on and so forth all the way to Town Hall.
This, kids, is why you don't sit next to a woman who's painting her nails.
The seat I was sitting on dissolved like desert sands made of a delicate, sherbet-like substance, and I fell through time and space, like a feather weighted with a million tiny gold particles. My eyes blinked, and with each reopening, a new colour came into existence, colours never hitherto perceived by the human eye.
And so on and so forth all the way to Town Hall.
This, kids, is why you don't sit next to a woman who's painting her nails.
3 comments:
Hahahaha...I can really empathise. Thanks for making me laugh in this gloomy morning :)
I thought this was going to end with "who's had beans the night before."
or 'This, kids, is what it feels like to have a migraine aura.'
I'm going to have to be cautious about reading your blog if you're going to add graphics like that.
Post a Comment