Diary of a Drug Fiend

Over the Top ! 27 But my physical body was lifting me. It was the same old, wild exhilaration that one gets from rising from the ground on one’s good days. I found myself in the middle of the floor without knowing how I had got there. I, too, was walking on air. Lou turned, her mouth a scarlet orb, as I have seen the sunset over Belgium, over the crinkled line of shore, over the dim blue mystic curve of sea and sky; with the thought in my mind beating in tune with my excited heart. We didn’t miss the arsenal this time. I was the arsenal too. I had exploded. I was the slayer and the slain ! And there sailed Lou across the sky to meet me. “‘O Thou outrider of the Sun, that spurrest the bloody flanks of the wind! I adore Thee, Evoe ! I adore Thee, I A O!” We came into each other’s arms with the inevitable- ness of gravitation. We were the only two people in the Universe—she and I. The only force that existed in the Universe was the attraction between us. The force with which we came together set us spinning. We went up and down the floor of the club; but, of course, it wasn’t the floor of the club, there wasn’t the club, there wasn’t anything at all except a delirious feeling that one was everything, and had to get on with everything. One was the Universe eternally whirling. There was no possibility of fatigue; one’s energy was equal to one’s task. ““Q ‘Thou dancer with gilded nails, that un- braidest the star hair of the night! 1 adore Thee, Evoe! I adore Thee, I A O!” Lou’s slim, lithe body lay in my arm. It sounds absurd, but she reminded me of a light overcoat. Her head hung back, the heavy coils of hair came loose. All of a sudden the band stopped. For a second the agony was indescribable. It seemed like annihilation.