Floyd

Singing clay flower trails all over the animals. Notes rise from the foaming backs like meandering soap bubbles, iridescent from bitter orange pearls that drift crackling on the membranes, pincushions of tart twigs in which pale red mists drift...

The glass wasn't even emptied before the stuff had already started to take its mind-bending effect. There were the rotten beams of the barns, bent downwards by the damp-swirly booze, littered with earthy bitter traces, the black...