Sacrifice | The Daily Post

I awoke laying upon the cold pavement outside my apartment wearing only a buckskin cloth and armed with a meat cleaver. As I raise my head from the cold ground I notice that the rush hour traffic is just diverting around me as feathers float about in the air.

Everything is a blur and though my head is throbbing I feel numb all over. Somehow I gather what wits that remain and raise to my hind legs. As hard as it is to stand upright it feels somewhat comforting to have the buckskin fall down over parts that should not be seen or overly exposed to the sun.

looking around I feel a familiar feeling as I follow the blood trail, empty beer cans and floating feathers to an open door that seems like it should be mine. Inside there it seems so familiar as I sit on the bed inside the door. Then I look into the mirror and almost scream as a creature looking something of myself stares right back into my eyes, just then I see its me but covered in blood.

I think to myself what must have happened but come up blank. Thinking farther back though I remember what seems to be a five, and bikini bottoms with a sling or belt. Then I think Cinco with laughing and smiles. Was there a casino serving Mezcal with freedom or am I in denial.

Sounds so strange yet so true was I a target or did I stand true. I don’t know and I am really not sure. But it seems that hypnotic liquor could have been involved. As I stood up and looked out my window it seems as I stood gazing down was a truck looking like mine wrapped around a telephone pole. On the other side of that it seems was a chicken truck toppled over it seems.

Oh I though this could not be. Was it possible me standing out side sacrificing chickens. Oh things come clear, it must have been the Mezcal gods telling me to give a few chickens and fortunes you will receive.

Oh I have to run I need to escape I run down the hall and out through the back and there sits a car full of girls with Mezcal in hand. I jump inside and off we go. Only to awake to a roosters crow. It was from that sound I stand with the meat cleaver in my hand. There maybe a sacrifice today.

via Sacrifice | The Daily Post

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