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This Story was a Runner Up in The Story Library's First Competition.
On the Thai Island of Ko Chang, there is, or certainly used to be, a small restaurant run by a tall transvestite who went by the name of Thor. As well as serving some of the best pad thai you could ever hope to have, he was known for supplying space cake to tourists.
We would often take time out of our busy lying-in-a-hammock schedule to visit Thor’s and on one occasion decided to try this legendary cake. Well, it was quite nice. Very nice in fact. So nice, that while my girlfriend had just nibbled off a small corner, I had wolfed the rest of it down in seconds flat. I had expected there would be little in the way of drugs in each portion and wasn’t too concerned as we walked back to our little beach bungalow.
Then my head felt a little fuzzy. Then my girlfriend’s bikini took on a luminescent glow. Then a nearby palm tree took on an unnatural importance in my life. Then I went through every cliché for a bad trip in the book, from thinking that I was in a coma and that the music I could hear was actually an attempt by my relatives to bring me round by playing my favourite tunes, to thinking that I would never ever be able to “come back” to normality.
It was all quite unnerving at the time, especially since everybody that walked down the beach and passed us seemed to be looking at me and laughing. It could have been my fucked-up imagination, but even now, I don’t think it was. Because, one thing I did clearly remember about the trip when I eventually “came back” was that I had had a bad case of incredibly loud farts and I was freely letting them go as couples attempted to have romantic sunset strolls along the water’s edge. |
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