there...

She slept. Tossing and turning, tossing and turning. Tossing and turning all night until she heard them and prepared to drink...




she

We drank every sip. The purple fills our cups. We cheers to the good life. We won’t be coming home for awhile. This tour bus is will be stopping in your town soon. We only ask you leave all your worries at home and we’ll take care of the rest. Oh shit! Do you know what these pills do?

There was movement. Coming from the trees. Coming between the rocks. Coming down. It looked like water but it sounded like music. "Drink me up" it sang.

World tour.

Her hips begin to shake with devil may care. The forest floor thumps and project stairway sways. You cannot stop this. As a wise man once said, "I lost my mind, it's somewhere out there stranded I think you stand under me if you don't understand me." I hear a drum solo coming in this world tour.

Scritch...

Somewhere in the county of Devon in south-west England a lemon is stirring and starting to turn purple as it clings to its branch by a single, thin tensile fiber. It can be heard in the silent forest…

“Scritch Scritch. Scritch Scritch.”