Emily is getting further and further into the haze and out of her mind.
She stops after a while, standing still and seeing nothing but smoke and haze around her. It is dead quiet, like a graveyard except without the ghosts. Like the universe's perimeter but without the omnipresent hydrogen hiss.
Like...
"Emily, we meet again," Fred's voice intoned. Emily looked around and there he was, standing behind her with one of his goldurned bags of greasy doughnuts.
"Really Fred," she said to the much handsomer (now that he was surreal) Fred, "You have to see someone about your doughnut problem."
"It's not a problem. It's a lot cheaper than coke and less dangerous than beer."
"Well," conceded Emily.
"Especially if you avoid the cream filled ones," Fred expounded, "Anyhoo, I am trying to see someone about these here doughnuts."
"And that would be... me?" |
