diffuse lights, warm, cushy, sigh-"hah-h-h", eyes ease closed still, clean skin, soft hand trace jaw, pillowlips touch light on weary brow, un-creases, light tug, firm hold, yet warm-womb, birds-chirp, lightly slowly into wake a face, lovely-symmetric, blond hair, green eyes "awake fair prince"
"Lovely..." half breathed, half spoken in an awe and tired content.
"Thank you" with a smile light and delicate.
"Where am..." words lost fade, blend into the cushy chair below.
"Paul, don't worry. No pain, no more pain." a soft honey dripping voice, loving like a mother.
Paul glanced down at his arms, tied with blue silk tight, yet not uncomfortable. "Why constrained?" A fuzzy mind was reaching clarity, like readjusting an antenna in his head.
"So we can talk, without trouble." She tossed her hair, pushing it behind a well formed ear, "Do you want to talk Paul?"
"What abou... ok" a dreamy, dazed up grin formed itself.
"How are you feeling now?"
"Cushy, warm, light..."
"What would you compare it to, in life?"
"Infancy..." he cooed "it's..." words refused to form "an..." and as he forced on the thought it squirt on the floor "sorry, I'll clean that..." looking down.
"Interesting... it's a what?"
"A what..." this time he just let it flow and "innocence."
"Very good Paul, very good" a pause, glance "now, I don't mean to intrude, but..." a careful pause, clearing her voice, a little huskier than he would have imagined, but still pretty.
"No, please..."
"Do you know about... drugs Paul? Like, could you describe how some feel?"
"Prolly... yeah... drugs" a thin stream of drool started down from his lips and was wiped smoothly with a white handkerchief.
"Now this might seem like a strange question but, you could tell if you we're given a drug right, you know how you'd feel the effect of such a substance on yourself?"
"I know how they all feel..." eyes began to glaze "some like dizzy, some fuzzy, a dissipating/ disassociation, an energy, a somber sleep, a dull ache, a kaleidoscopic ecstasy..." as the voice began to lilt into a wordless utterance the angelic form placed a hand on his shoulder, her skin seeming slightly rougher then he had
remembered, but still, so nice a touch.
"Is the kaleidoscope convincing?"
"To some... to some, everything..." a moment "... but you learn, you see... if your wise... you see the glue, the unstick... we cerebralists, we do drugs forever..."
"Why's that?" she was a little older than he had previously thought.
In a flash of clarity, fever-fast: "They never quite completely lose themselves; they're eternally attached to the goddamn world they live in, and always know, refusing to let it go completely, so they go farther, farther, waiting for the time they don't need to think." a heavy breath "We wish for ignorance, without that
knowledge that we're stupid. So we need to go FUBAR, a regular high just won't..." and then drool, moan, tired, oh so tired. A deep bellied "hmmm..." is heard, but sleep...