Insomnia-PotHead's treck-COASM
short about one of the things i use to do before bed in the summer when i lived w/ my motheri worship Anubis if your wondering why i toasted the pipe to him
[This is 1 short from my book of shorts based on my life, though some are GRATELY exagerated, titled Confessions Of A Sad Man. I've been working on these for a few years but they are all still rough drafts, I will post more later.]
The night was streaching out, fadeing into the dawn as crickets cherped and birds rustled and sang random notes, yawning and checking his watch in the gloomy am light the large fur padded out into the driveway.
Hmm, only 4am. He blinked and quietly tiptoed across the pea gravel, passed his mothers bedroom window and silently opened and closed the gate to behind the garage and fenced in yard. He steps out of the gravel and merrs softly as his pads enjoy the cool green dewy grass, clicking his small LED flashlight on holding his thumb over half the lense and training the half moon beam of white light upon the ground ahead of his footpaws. Watching intently where he was about to step as he didnt want to step on any slugs, not just becuase the slim is a bitch to get off his pads let alone his fur, but becuase he never wanted to harm a soul. He paused and bent down making a wierd face and reaching out one finger to wave it at the slick gleaming black spotted slug crossing the small deer path down to the pump house and naturel spring.
"hhhhhiiiii little guy" He whispered excitedly as he greeted the small hemaphrodite gastropod, carefuly he stepped over it and continued on down the path to the two steps down to the tiny creek that came from the thick concreet block that the capped the spring; having already passed the pumphouse right after his slug encounter. He hopped to the stone in the middle of the narrow cheek then to the other bank, greeting the two large slugs on the edge of the spring before hopping over them and up onto the concreet block, looking up at the stary sky that slowly brightened through the tall pines and a large wild yellow plum tree. Pulling a pipe from his sweatpants pocket and a small ziplock baggie stuffed w/ richly scented weed, he packed a bowl in his pipe then stuffed the baggie back in his pocket and pulled out his lighter.
"Heres to you *Anubis" Reno spoke softly, holding the pipe to the sky then taking a hit, relishing the sweet smokey flavor of the first hit. Holding in the smoke for only a moment, as one only needs to hold it for a few seconds to obsorbe all the THC one can in a hit, slowly exhailing through his nose as he leans over and hacks up some lung butter, spiting in the dirt just to his left.
Makeing soft choaking, weezing and coughing sounds, drooling a bit then standing up and giggling as he weezed for air.
"mmmm thats good," the squirrel anthro patted his chest with a fist as he choaked and hacked up more flem; his sinuses desided to turn on him in his youth and now drain into his lungs instead of out his nose. Before he sleeps he likes to clear his lungs fearing he'll dround in his own mucus if he doesn't. After two or four bowls he carfuly headed back the way he came, slugs long gone to their hiding places to sleep the cool morning away. The sun was pinkening the sky as the squirrel crept back inside the cabin and striped down to his boxers before crawled into his bed for a well needed 4hrs of sleep.