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. Through the card. . . .
A hand fell upon my shoulder and I turned. It belonged to Luke, who
grinned at me as he edged up to the bar for a refill.
"Great party, huh?" he said.
"Yeah, great. How'd you find this place?" I asked him.
He shrugged. "I forget. Who cares?"
He fumed away, a brief blizzard of .crystals swirling between us. The
Caterpillar exhaled a purple cloud. A blue moon was rising.
What is wrong with this picture? I asked myself.
I had a sudden feeling that my critical faculty had been shot off in
the war, because I couldn't focus on the anomalies I felt must be present. I
knew that I was caught up in the moment, but I couldn't see my way clear.
I was caught up. . .
I was caught. . . .
How?
Well. . . . It had all started when I'd shaken my own hand. No. Wrong.
That sounds like Zen and that's not how it was. The hand I shook emerged
from the space occupied by the image of myself on the card that went away.
Yes, that was it. . . . After a fashion.
I clenched my teeth. The music began again. There came a soft scraping
sound near to my hand on the bar. When I looked I saw that my tankard had
been refilled. Maybe I'd had too much already. Maybe that's what kept
getting in the way of my thinking. I fumed away. I looked off to my left,
past the place where the mural on the wall became the real landscape
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