It was cold outside, and I had a half ounce of mushrooms for the evening.
It was cold outside, and I had a half ounce of mushrooms for the evening. My three friends and I sat around the living room smoking pot and stuffing down the extrodinarily blue shrooms. Staying inside didn't seem like such a great idea so we headed to a nearby forest we liked to call Wonderland.
On the way, I could tell two of my friends were starting to trip really hard. They seemed totally confused whenever I asked them how they were feeling, and that made me nervous.
When we started walking through the woods, all I saw were swirling colors. It was completely dark and we didn't have a flashlight. I went first because I knew the way better than anyone. Tree limbs seemed to reach down like skeleton hands touching me on the shoulder.
We reached a clearing where some kids had long ago made a fire and drank beer. I heard a lound thump and turned around to see one of my friends passed out on the ground. He looked like a cartoon character just smashed by a falling anvil. We all laugh, but he didn't. He was having even more trouble talking now. Maybe it was because he'd dislocated his jaw. A fact we didn't learn until much later.
As we walked through the woods, I stopped at a small stream with little bugs or minnows or somthing teaming inside it. I stopped for a minute and put my hand in the frigid water. This reminded me of how cold it was. I started shivering and my stomach started cramping.