In the Court of Dorothy

The night before my birthday, Galahad, Eliza and myself found ourselves in the court of our dear lady Dorothy. I found myself entranced by the fact that I was able to maintain all the concentration that I lacked when having a conversation with Audrey. She had the strange effect of making my brain race with fantastic ideas, but muddled my tongue whenever I tried to explain them. But that night Jack had kindly left us a cache of unused medications, so my nostrils were all a-tingle with an intense focus.
It came come in handy when I found myself involved in several conversations, recording an account of the whole experience, as well as keeping track of the conversations that had trailed off so that they could be revisited and finished. At one point, we were trying to coax Dorothy into divulging her opinion of Jack, which was difficult, since she was slightly hung up on topic of escapades between her and Eliza, and struggling with the perfection involved in a lady of her profession cutting lines of a less than legitimate substance.
I adore the intense focus that Ritalin gave me, and so long as the after-affects weren't too unfortunate, intended to indulge more often.

There was more of that night that I wanted to write, but never did. I was writing from above the gathering, looking down on the scene from Eliza's loft, and the party was beckoning me to come down, in the form of small lines on the table top.

Yours,
Titus T.