My Experiences as an Adolescent Psychedelic Mushroom Enthusiast

The shaking only intensified as every clock on the wall of the clock store rang. The ringing was louder and longer than she’d ever heard. A white faced office clock was the first to shake loose and with a bang in hit the floor. It was quickly joined by a cuckoo, a grandfather,

and an alarm clock, all crashing to the floor as the earth swelled & she lost her balance. Clocks clanged & banged all around her as she covered her head with her hands. Then the trembling subsided. She looked up & saw one clock hadn't been dislodged or broken by the earthquake.

It was the doomsday clock, ironically. It remained at four minutes until midnight. “So much for the global thermonuclear cataclysm,” she scoffed. Then the next tremor hit. “How much longer do we have?” she asked bitterly. “Not long,” said her father.

“Godzilla approaches.” Dad said. “Remember your training, we’ve drilled this exact scenario.” Then we both slid down the tubes to our waiting atomic choppers.

I strapped myself in, hoping all my training, all my years of discipline would lead me to victory in this moment. I started the engine and the roar drowned out any thought I had in my head.

Soon I was floating, watching the race from above, following the colorful rockets jockeying for position. My shuttle deftly takes the lead. Be present, be present, I think to myself. I hear cheers echo through space. I did it, I think—lost in my plume of rainbow smoke—I’ve won.