“Skell my ass,” Allan thinks as he continues
to walk, following the coned dome of light shining just in front of his
footsteps. “This place is more like a fucking dungeon.”
There are
more spider weds, scores of them, and Allan feels like a hybrid between Indiana
Jones, trying to find something important and lost that never existed in the
first place in the caves of South America and Beatle Juice’s bride, shrouded in
thick spider webs for a wedding veil. He could have almost sworn that he
brushed back all of these spider webs before he saw what Patrick will later
refer to as the ‘Dolly Lama’s,’ not believing Allan anyway, saying that it was,
in all probability, probably something his brother, ate, drank or smoke that
Baker gave him as a Guinea pig, to make sure it was safe for his own ingestion.
The fervent
hot sand has cooled considerably. Allan, replacing his shoes on his soles the
moment his bare foot stepped on what felt like morning dew. For being inside the
corridor has gotten considerably larger, almost as if it is giving birth to
itself. The oriental clang has long subsided and what Allan first thinks is
mice turns out to be the sounds of crickets chirping. Allan looks up and sees prodding stars
offering the atmosphere a shimmering wink. He adjusts the light in his hardhat
once again to see thinking about That
guy sitting under the tree with his face glowing like the sun sure did scare
the fuck out of Allan, especially when he thinks about how peaceful and serene
the brother looked with his legs folded under his waist. It was like the whole
universe was momentarily plugged into that serene man and that all of history
and all the vicissitudes of time met and shook hands and traded recipes all
throughout the discourse of the monks meditation, which Allan thinks still
shines like the stars he witnessed all of two hours ago.
Allan continues to walk on, using his hardhat camcorder as a
light, looking for his brother, sure that he is in part of the Cryptobyrinth no
one has ever seen before, not sure exactly where it is he is headed in the
slightest, knowing only that he has to proceed into the illuminated pocket of
darkness alone.
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