joeislove's 100-word story for April 22, 2025

joeislove wrote the following micro-story on Hectalex on April 22, 2025. Each story on Hectalex is inspired by a daily visual prompt and must be exactly 100 words.

By dawn the acid was fading, replaced by a buzzing in my bones and a sense that the world was flickering like the film strips they used to play for us in elementary school, visuals slightly out of sync with the audio, a juddering quaky sensation that frames were dropping, that we were skipping past precious moments, crashing forward into the future. Clara found me slumped against a wall around 9am, squatted in front of me. Held out a water bottle. "Drink this." Fed me a pill. "Eat this." "What is it?" "Molly." I ate the Molly. Breathed. And waited.

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