Five Happy Snails
Prose: I attended teenage therapy fucked up on Ludes
There I am, flush and lolling on a sofa. The thick buzzing of another voice snuggles against my roaring ears.
Josie, she calls, and her utterance bounces around the foamy carpet.
The room is imbued with the echoes of playing kids and a screeching edger outside. Leafy shadows splatter the muted walls in afternoon sun.