So one of my goals this summer is to write daily. Here is some sillyness.
"How high do you suppose he is?"
"The Author only knows. He’s never done this much Ganja before."
The holy man writhed on the ground, neck twitching, muscles bulging.
"I see it!"
"The Author… He’s… He’s a young man, trying to figure it out. We are an experiment to him. The Author lives out his selfhood in us!"
"Say more teacher"
"The Suffis are right. The Author looks at us, and we look at Him, and he fills us with Himself. We are little beaded pieces of glass, refined, reflecting the Author!"
And with that he fell to the ground, silent.