‘I’m the Buddha, are you the Buddha?’ he asked his pipe playfully. ‘No? You’re not the Buddha? Are you the caterpillar? I’m the caterpilla.... Are you the pot plant?’ He listened to his pipe for a few minutes. ‘Oh, I see,’ he said. He contemplated what the pipe had told him while he smoked another bowl. Then he ran back to his car and drove to a party deeper in the forest. The party was packed with beautiful girls and other track athletes. The meet he had run earlier in the day was a meet. If I tilt my head back I might be able to see better but I know instinctively that would not be permitted. Through the tiny slit of vision afforded at the bottom of my blindfold I can see the floor is carpeted in a soft rose color. Matching throw pillows are s**ttered about the floor. Even the defused lighting seems to be of a soft red tint. I am guided toward the middle of the room dodging the throw pillows. I'm very conscious of being naked and freshly shaved and oiled. Near one of the larger. More

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