we have lift off. It was just another average day of…
By: Matt Gerber
Tags: Trippy, Consciousness, Hallucinations, Short Fiction, Short Read

Photo by Steven Weeks on Unsplash

He stood above me and his head blocked out the entirety of the sun, giving him a look one wouldn’t hesitate to deem prophetic. Next, he was crouching next to me and I could see all of his face and thought of much younger than I had perceived. His wrinkles were yet to reach the depths of the wise sages you see in the movies and his cheeks had a red glow to them. He handed me a small vile and He told me to drink it, actually, more like, i just drank it, as if some invisible force was coursing through my veins, my hand had grabbed the vile and my lips touched the small, glass opening that was no bigger than a perfume bottle. I could feel a cool liquid enter my mouth and I tried to suck on it like a baby would its mothers nipple but the opening was too small and my lips got sucked into the small opening. I looked back at him and then realized I couldn’t look away, not even if I tried. His eyes held fast my attention to the point I felt like a puppet who harmoniously danced with its strings. For a moment it felt as if i could look away, but before my head could make a move i was once again trapped in his gaze like a cacoon.

It was just another average day of sunshine and hanging out at the park. This morning, my bagel with cream cheese was no different from yesterdays and my heavy cream whipped with espresso tasted the same in its ritualistic cup. The same shit smell wafted up from the same white toilet bowl I decorate each morning and my morning read lay just a few more pages further than yesterdays.

I’ve seen him here before. Multiple times in fact. He walks the park perimeter as if lost in thought. One time I hung up my hammock near the sidewalk and watched him pass by more times than my fingers could manage, the bold red of converse sneakers covered his feet and drew one’s attention to the frayed cut off blue jeans hanging just above his knees. He walked the pace of a group of subourbon house wife walkers, but he had a goofy step that made it seem like if he wanted to he could walk on water.

I had called up my mother and we talked for over an hour that morning. It was a talk of both death and that which is immortal and I told her a wave of love was approaching but she couldn’t hear over the flash bangs used to subdue the rioters on the news channel she was watching. I was reminded of a story I had heard about how Jesus Christ’s mummified body had been stolen from its hiding place underneath the vatican. The thief smuggled it into the pacific northwest in a wooden box disguised as a piece of art for a famous collector. With heavy consideration it was meditated upon. Were this to leak out and into the masses the implications would surely cause ripples in the fabric of human existence, so much so a team of seamstress’ may be called upon to restitch a new pattern to which we may choose to live by. It was decided to dispose of the body, apparently there is a time and a place for everything…

My gaze remained upon his eyes until i peeked too far over the edge and fell into the black holes that expelled his being. I felt paralyzed, and it was not scary that i could not move any of my limbs because i felt time itself had paused this material existence. I saw myself laying on the ground and then i thought how weird it was that i was not that which lay before me. I then danced with what i thought was the venerable looking man kneeling beside the body that is no longer my own. He led me though a dance with which i felt like i were the keys of a piano being played during a mozart piece, and it felt like each key played would jump from the piano for a brief second and dance with the keys that had just been played before they themselves fell back into the piano. He led the dance and i fell into his wake and he was powerful like a black hole in which his gravitational pull did all the moving for me and all i had to do was absolutely nothing.

I began to feel as if a smooth piece of silk was being dragged across my face and then my temples on both sides of my head seemed to grow and then shrink in sync with the rhythm of my heart beat. The blackness evaporated from my vision in all directions as if it were just a black hole and that black hole had a reverse button that had been pushed. Another splash of water danced about my face and with my hand I wiped it off like I would after removing my head from under the shower head. He asked me if I was alright and I became very confused and focused my gaze upon his face eventually finding his eyes looking back at me. Except they weren’t looking at me, they were smirking at me, like they had just told a joke and realized the punch line went right over your head. He helped me to my feet and patted some dirt off of my back and i saw him looking at a large tree root protruding above the ground a couple feet away and he said,

“That damn root has been tripping people up all week”.

The Vessel: Write about a ship or other vehicle that can take you somewhere different from where you are now.

He stood above me and his head blocked out the entirety of the sun, giving him a look one wouldn’t hesitate to deem prophetic. Next, he was crouching next to me and I could see all of his face and thought of much younger than I had perceived. His wrinkles were yet to reach the depths of the wise sages you see in the movies and his cheeks had a red glow to them. He handed me a small vile and He told me to drink it, actually, more like, i just drank it, as if some invisible force was coursing through my veins, my hand had grabbed the vile and my lips touched the small, glass opening that was no bigger than a perfume bottle. I could feel a cool liquid enter my mouth and I tried to suck on it like a baby would its mothers nipple but the opening was too small and my lips got sucked into the small opening. I looked back at him and then realized I couldn’t look away, not even if I tried. His eyes held fast my attention to the point I felt like a puppet who harmoniously danced with its strings. For a moment it felt as if i could look away, but before my head could make a move i was once again trapped in his gaze like a cacoon.

It was just another average day of sunshine and hanging out at the park. This morning, my bagel with cream cheese was no different from yesterdays and my heavy cream whipped with espresso tasted the same in its ritualistic cup. The same shit smell wafted up from the same white toilet bowl I decorate each morning and my morning read lay just a few more pages further than yesterdays.

I’ve seen him here before. Multiple times in fact. He walks the park perimeter as if lost in thought. One time I hung up my hammock near the sidewalk and watched him pass by more times than my fingers could manage, the bold red of converse sneakers covered his feet and drew one’s attention to the frayed cut off blue jeans hanging just above his knees. He walked the pace of a group of subourbon house wife walkers, but he had a goofy step that made it seem like if he wanted to he could walk on water.

I had called up my mother and we talked for over an hour that morning. It was a talk of both death and that which is immortal and I told her a wave of love was approaching but she couldn’t hear over the flash bangs used to subdue the rioters on the news channel she was watching. I was reminded of a story I had heard about how Jesus Christ’s mummified body had been stolen from its hiding place underneath the vatican. The thief smuggled it into the pacific northwest in a wooden box disguised as a piece of art for a famous collector. With heavy consideration it was meditated upon. Were this to leak out and into the masses the implications would surely cause ripples in the fabric of human existence, so much so a team of seamstress’ may be called upon to restitch a new pattern to which we may choose to live by. It was decided to dispose of the body, apparently there is a time and a place for everything…

My gaze remained upon his eyes until i peeked too far over the edge and fell into the black holes that expelled his being. I felt paralyzed, and it was not scary that i could not move any of my limbs because i felt time itself had paused this material existence. I saw myself laying on the ground and then i thought how weird it was that i was not that which lay before me. I then danced with what i thought was the venerable looking man kneeling beside the body that is no longer my own. He led me though a dance with which i felt like i were the keys of a piano being played during a mozart piece, and it felt like each key played would jump from the piano for a brief second and dance with the keys that had just been played before they themselves fell back into the piano. He led the dance and i fell into his wake and he was powerful like a black hole in which his gravitational pull did all the moving for me and all i had to do was absolutely nothing.

I began to feel as if a smooth piece of silk was being dragged across my face and then my temples on both sides of my head seemed to grow and then shrink in sync with the rhythm of my heart beat. The blackness evaporated from my vision in all directions as if it were just a black hole and that black hole had a reverse button that had been pushed. Another splash of water danced about my face and with my hand I wiped it off like I would after removing my head from under the shower head. He asked me if I was alright and I became very confused and focused my gaze upon his face eventually finding his eyes looking back at me. Except they weren’t looking at me, they were smirking at me, like they had just told a joke and realized the punch line went right over your head. He helped me to my feet and patted some dirt off of my back and i saw him looking at a large tree root protruding above the ground a couple feet away and he said,

“That damn root has been tripping people up all week”.