Joely - The Hermit
Autobiographical fiction written in a Burroughsesque cut-up style, with vignettes that contain anecdotes, philosophizing, surrealist reflection and descriptive character portraits - all of these encompassing and attempting to embody a somewhat imaginative depiction of a childhood, adolescence and eventual coming-of-age as a writer.
...the serious-minded are asked to evacuate the building because a spliff clad in bowler hat and cane is clonking down the stairs; he's had a rough night, lost a pillow to a thieving bag of hash so one simply had to suffice - and it was torture I tell you, intolerable torture, an oblivion you've never imagined - so naturally, and indeed quite reasonably, Mr Spliff is pissed...at first the serious-minded holler rabidly...they ain't moving anywhere...the Spliff descends the stairs gracefully, one at a time, emitting smog filled to the brim and proper with cannabis smoke...it floats around the ceiling, seeks nothing, desires nothing, assume and believes nothing - it is. The serious-minded are infuriated by this blatant breach of the law: just who is this spliff? "FUCK YOU!" - a cadre of MI5 agents assemble outside the building and look-on menacingly; there's been a misunderstanding, Mr Spliff is under arrest. He dives instinctively for the baggy to seal his pernicious smell...a wail is heard...the serious-minded are contended, things are happening as they should, the unlawful are being prosecuted, all is good and well in the land of cunt.
Mr Spliff is shitting bricks. The enforcers of the law begin to file in, mutely, emotionlessly. The Spliff decides that the baggy is an unwise hiding place - it's too conventional and transparent. Somewhere opaque then, perhaps? The Spliff begins to feel nauseous...he feels them closing in...he has retreated back upstairs and barracked himself in his room...swirling, a churning sensation...he feels light-headed, dizzy...BLURH! He vomits tobacco, it goes everywhere, spills out under the door even and exudes an unmistakable smell...now they'll find him for sure! He gropes around for his lighter to ward them off...it is nowhere to be found...that fucking bag of hash!