The Golden Hour

It was the third hour after noon on the twenty third day of his thirty third January. He opened the thirty third page of the golden book and took out three doses. Said goodbye to his companions and placed the tabs on his tongue. Gathering his thoughts as they dissolved, he figured about an hour before the trip began and about another three before his companions returned. Finally, some peace and quite. A fine time for a joint and a nap. 4 o’clock came around about the same time he awoke from his slumber. “Perfect timing” he thought as he noticed the funkiness of what he had just done. The golden savanna grasses glowing in the afternoon sun. Rising to top of the “observation point”, noticing not a human soul in sight. Here he was, alone, three doses deep in the middle of an unguarded campsite in an African national park. What a time to be alive!