My little sister ate a couple of tabs of Orange Sunshine that were left out on our coffee table during a party. A consensus of the experts on hand was that a child of three wouldn’t know the difference between a dream and an LSD trip.
“She’ll be fine,” one friend assured.
“There’s no anecdote for it anyway,” another offered, “might as well let it play out… see what happens.”
Mom asked me again if I had eaten any of the candy that Lori ate.
“No.” -- I lied.
Later that night, we were all gathered in the backyard. An enormous full moon was slowly rising behind the grove of trees at the rear of our property. It swelled and swelled until it was twice the size of our house. I felt that it wouldn’t take much effort to run and leap up onto it.
As the massive glowing orb drew closer to the ground, I stretched out my hand and ran my fingers along the edge of a moon crater. I laughed and laughed, and then I laughed some more. A few of our family friends were convinced I had eaten some of the candy.
My little sister ate a couple of tabs of Orange Sunshine that were left out on our coffee table during a party. A consensus of the experts on hand was that a child of three wouldn’t know the difference between a dream and an LSD trip.
As the night deepened, the adults wandered back inside, cavorting and dancing. I stayed outside, mesmerized by the moon, which was now pulsing in time with the music. The grass beneath my bare feet felt soft and warm, the ground rising and falling as if the earth itself was breathing gently beneath me.
I glided on air through the yard, the bushes and trees whispering secrets only I could hear. Shadows and light danced and stretched across the ground, forming intricate patterns that I tried to trace with my footsteps. Every rustle of the leaves, every chirp of a cricket, felt amplified and significant.
Near our old oak tree, I found a small patch of wildflowers. Their petals glowed in the moonlight as they swayed to the rhythm of the song playing in the distance. I plucked two flowers and tucked them behind my ears, feeling an inexplicable kinship to the wilderness surrounding me.
Inside the house, the energy of the party was now pushing against the walls, threatening to burst forth. Through the windows, I could see figures moving, their silhouettes fluid and dreamlike. I wondered if they felt the same exact magic I did or if they were experiencing their own takes on reality.
Drawn by the crowd and curious, I returned to our house. The doorway rippled as I approached, and I hesitated for a moment before stepping through it. The sweet and intoxicating scent of marijuana and incense lofted through the air. I carefully crossed the threshold, unsure of what more I would discover.
Several hours later, I somehow managed to drift off to sleep between the waves of revelation and infinite delight.
The following week, my Kindergarten teacher called my mom in for an impromptu parent-teacher meeting. She told her that I was scrawling “LSD” on everything from my desk to my homework. My mom assured her that she had no idea where I could have picked it up.
“He must have seen it on TV,” she told my teacher.
As we pulled the family wagon up to our house, Mom noticed that I had taken crayons to the side of our front porch, emblazoning it with “LSD” in all colors of the rainbow. She was worried about the attention I was drawing because LSD had recently been made illegal.
A heart-to-heart with my dad later that evening put an end to my career as an acid promoter and counter-culture graffiti artist.
At least for the time being.
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