The wind seemed to fight me, to tell me that I’d done well, & should not be punishing myself… but I didn’t listen. Shielding the lighter with my...hand, I took a long pull on the cigarette. The smoke seared my throat a little… & felt like poison as I exhaled. A small portion of death, less drastic than taking it all at once, yet somehow soothing at the same time. It reminded me also of other things… of former lovers who’d smoked, it was a little comforting to have that connection, even if it were. Somewhere nearby, Len was having a full-blown hallucination. The groundwas inhaling and exhaling as he watched. He was near, and getting nearer.I looked at myself. I was wearing a knit sweater. One of those Mexicanhippie pullover types with a hood and pocket for my hands. The colors werevery autumnal. I had a long billowing skirt, mostly rust red, but withbatik patterns. Around my neck, on a cord, there was a steel firestriker."It should be a pentacle," I thought. That was one of the details. More

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