lectures / two quick hits

Franco Amati
Published in
1 min readJun 27, 2021


Image by 愚木混株 Cdd20 from Pixabay

The noise level in the room was rising.
Jaws jabbered with banter about last night’s reading. Renzo pulled a small bottle out of his bag.
The bottle had a tip designed for intra-nasal spraying. He ducked below the podium so no one could see him.
Two quick hits
pushed a fine mist up his nose.

The particles passed from Renzo’s nasal cavity to his olfactory bulb, connecting directly to his brain.

Rapid neural signals blazed down axons,
danced on dendrites,
caused channels of sodium and potassium ions to flood through cell membranes.

The signals transmitted information
to the orbitofrontal cortex, amygdala, and hippocampus
telling each player in the network
of memory and emotion to do their jobs without making it known that the work was being done.

The sensation was brief but uncomfortable — then, divine —
a jolt of lemony metallic flavor stung the back of Renzo’s throat. He stood up to face the class
and took a swig of coffee to wash out the taste. He glanced at his watch,
took a deep breath.

Sixty seconds later, everything went…blank…

For him, the universe ceased to exist.
For his class,
the lecture had just begun.

Franco Amati 2021



Franco Amati

Speculative fiction writer from New York. Editor of Scuzzbucket. For published work visit francoamatiwrites.com or buy me a coffee at ko-fi.com/francoamati