Exploding, scintillating lights – purple, orange, yellow …. Karl felt them filling his head. Visions began to appear. Strange creatures with grotesque bodies and long necks, twisted anguished faces, skin blistering, burning, voices roaring, screeching. He covered his face. Stop, PLEASE.
Then he was gliding over an alien landscape – dark fathomless canyons, volcanoes hurling spume to enormous heights, gigantic crashing waves in a chemical ocean.
Suddenly, stillness, complete silence.
He found himself in a long tunnel of golden light, terminating in a small room. He floated down into it and onto a yellow-cushioned native wooden chair. Everything else was white, including the coat of the man facing him. A badge read ‘Doctor K. Lamont.’
The phone rang. The man answered, “Psychotherapy, Doctor Lamont … yeah, he’s here, just been on a little trip, hold on … for you.” He held the phone out.
Karl reached out to take it but it passed through his hand and the scene dissolved.
Now, he stood on a deserted beach, watching small waves breaking softly.
A familiar white-coated figure approached along the sand. Nearing, the man proffered a green pill and a flask. “Hey Karl, this’ll help.”
Karl swallowed it. Exploding, scintillating coloured lights filled his head ….
Featured in the book, To Cut a Short Story Short: 111 Little Stories
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