Orange Sunshine are C.I.A Sweeties

Naked-In-Car

She was lovely you know. Her make up tended to stick in the lines around her eyes and the lines around her mouth were just a life of smiles. But she was a Mother and a Wife and was always that. To the shops to buy things, to work for work things and back home she worked again. She cleaned she cooked she turned the light off last thing at night and fucked. It was all a fully paid up membership in the ‘thing’ and that’s what she called it. The ‘thing’. 

I knew it was an awful ‘thing’ to communicate with her but I was above regrets and morals. A little word about her hair here and a smile there. I laid down the traps that she was to fall into purely for my own vicarious delights. Here I stand. I could do no other trust me. She came to me on a summers day as I was enjoying the sunshine and she grabbed my crotch, there in public. She was lost and I had her there right in the palm of my hand.

‘What is it? All your pills?’ she asked me. She had opened the car window a little and was blowing the smoke from her cigarette through it so she wouldn’t hotbox the interior. Her blouse was unbuttoned but she wouldn’t let me touch her yet, here in the Autumn rain, parked and dark. 

‘Yes it’s all my pills. 25mg Tramodol 30 off and 20mg Amitriptyline 30 off’ I replied. I was looking at her closely. I didn’t like this line of questioning. I could deal with the other shit easily but not this. This didn’t have anything to do with her.

‘For what? Why?’ she said, I knew this was a bad idea, talking about it but…She had a tight mature body, stretch marks like silver scars, beautiful in their own was, her ass was still firm, her breasts a fucking Godsend. She was a Mom and a Wife. I sullied all I touched, always did. Sins of the traveler of course. Sins of the Journeyman.

‘Look for fucks sake…’ I said, ‘Alright…no more funny business! Someone’s got to record this stuff for posterity’s sake and it’s not going to write itself.’ I touched her leg and that was it. A flicker of ‘thereabouts’ a subtle tease. Her hands in twenty minutes would be sunk into the velour of the car upholstery. Her breath would steam those windows solid greyscape. I would be in her and her phone would ring. She will answer it. It will be her husband asking where she was.

She had leaned over my desk and said ‘I want to fuck your brains out’ and I had laughed and she had stormed off back downstairs where she sat and worked and I couldn’t hold onto the moment. It was lost. but the tears of my laughter were still there. It took seconds for me to forget, seconds to let the thought scatter like rats under a light. Fuck it. All Wizards are bastards. Right? But how often do we get to eat the fucking milk and honey from the Never Ever Tree?

When President Gerald Ford came walking down the path, Lynette pulled out her gun. Immediately Secret Service Agents wrestled Lyn to the ground, and the President escaped untouched……

‘Shopping, bored, just getting a few things for tonight babe, I’ll be back in an hour or so, just got to nip to Sainsburys, Love you baby’ she would say. I would stick my cock deep in her then and her body would open up like a flower, she would be lost in orgasm. But that voice never fucking changed at all. Ever. But close your eyes and count to seven then pretty soon you’ll be in heaven. We were lost of course.

‘So why carry all your pills?’ She was accusing me, she knew of course. It was my suicide pack, my stairway to heaven. The returned gift. I knew the dose was right and I could swallow the lot in seconds. On the ward at the hospital as I lay dying he came to me and whispered in my ear. An old man, disheveled and ill looking as we all were.

One of the young ladies asked me:
“Don’t you want to go to where the rainbow ends?”
To which I replied:
“That all depends where that is.”

‘Ask for the Amitrips and the Tramadol, thirty of each’ he said and looked around furtively. ‘They fucking hate that tricking out early, it’s the ‘I’ll be off’ method. Fucking brilliant’ Then he was gone and the machine kept bleeping next to me, flashing, green red green red green red. In the car I was lost in the hospital for a moment and she was quiet again used to those long periods when I would go somewhere else. 

You see once you are told [as a child] that you lack something, then your life becomes an endless quest to find exactly what you are fucking missing. It’s those Motherfuckers that ruin lives. The Teachers and the Protectors. The ones who should know best but have given up on their own journeys long before. Or even worse, they never set foot on that journey in the first place. Yes, my suicide pack. Somewhere quiet when there’s nothing else to find. I’ve got the spot ready, it’s quiet and peaceful and nobody around for miles. I don’t think my mind would stand somebody finding me as I trickle vomit into the moss and grow sleepy.

‘The end is the beginning and the beginning is the end’ I say as I undress her as she lies flat on the back seat teasing her hands over the unclothed parts of her. Confident I have told her everything. The Acid I have taken is peeling away the system in front of me. The only way I can access the truth which is a room so white, so crystal clear, it pains me to think of it now. But I am the Alchemist now and I am the parent to my own Christ and he laid his head soft on the moss and vomited a sword from his mouth and smiled at me.

When the 2 allegorical caduceus serpents, the matter and antimatter are lifted upwards, thus criss + cross + for the final divine unification, the super genius consciousness bridge is formed between the pineal and pituitary glands. This bridge is the ‘Abyss Crosser’ or The Able hand.

She loves being fucked hard and she is lost in herself and I know dear thing that she doesn’t even need my help. As my hand slips across the wet glass of the window and she shouts those names I do not know I see in detail the room. The table set within it and the Nine guests who turn to look at me. To greet me. To see who I am and what I have to say. Of course I have nothing to say at all. Instead I feel her final orgasm, the shattered glass, the wet pillow at night, the sheets tight, the wires and the tubes and the stinking festering meat we live within and I too am lost for a second.

It is hard to separate the strands of sabotage from the tight woven synchronicity. It’s a Time and Space Lockdown for Motherfuckers. Gene manipulation is you building your own prison, your own cage. Your experience is a false-space.

‘So you have to go to Sainsburys then yeah?’ I asked her. She just lay there thinking about the little tupperware box with the pills in it. Thoughtful. I too thought, but there was nothing in my mind at all.

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