Twist and Crawl (Vers. 3)

Striking out on his own, the ghost drifted through various psychic landscapes, hoping to see a familiar face. The chittering guitars and galloping bass of some long forgotten ska song drifted across the tangles mass of thoughts and worries and paranoia---but the ghost recognized nothing. Not even the tune...

He drifted, twitching, into the eye, through the pupil, and down the optic nerve to the next world beyond...

---Richard F. Yates (Holy Fool)