Acid & Burritos

“Sal, I’m never dropping acid with you again”.

“What ever Angel, it was junk, it just made me hungry. I went and got us some burritos, want yours?”

I rubbed my stiffness, the glitter falling off my skin and scattering in the breeze. The sun was setting and we sat next to each other, inhaling burritos.

“Where did you get these?” I asked, mouth full of rice and pork.

“Over there, at the Burrito Barn.”

I jerked my head around and looked disgustingly in the one direction I hadn’t looked in yet, behind me. We were all of 200 feet from the main highway. A vast expanse stretched out in front of us, to our right and to our left. But civilization, burrito stands and gift shops sneaked up behind me while I lay staked to the ground.

“Sal, I feel cheated. Are you telling me that we sailed so far from camp, we actually made it across the border?”

“I told you it was some bad acid. They got weak margaritas at The Barn…..want one?”

“Blended or on the rocks?”

“Rocks only.”

“Sal, what’s this world coming to.”

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