It is a quiet morning, with the exception of the ambient speaking between the ceiling fan and the vaporizer. I am sitting here with a doughnut the size of wheel cover and a cigarette already lit and nearly finished, and I'm trying to collect my thoughts. What was it that occurred? Oh, that right. There were small packages of different flavored liquids - the force of nature in a pouch, and with the more you drank from it, the more severe the hail storm, blizzard, or high winds would be. It affected the entire body as well as the mind, but only of the individual who's tongue would touch such sweetening solutions. The one who experienced a hailstorm and a drought together was of a man around my age. I quickly emptied the contents into his mouth while his mouth was open, talking to me to me about things that mattered the least to me. This was an attempt for me to steal his love from him while he was under the influence, me being fully aware that she did not love him back. But who was I to steal anyone from anyone? I soon found that I was only interested in the mischief rather than the heroism. So as the man lay, strewn out, his mind enveloped in destructive nature, I simply got away before being noticed.
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