The Tranquility Anthology

=One Point Perspective=

Alex was a drug addict on an acid trip.

It started in the honeymoon suite of a married woman, him and her and others her pianist husband didn't know about.

His camera for documenting Tranquility's evening ball was off somewhere in the middle of the room as a white powder flew through a rolled up bank note into his nose.

Alex lost control of his mind. Looking out the window on his left at the lunar surface, the Earth a small blue marble alongside the flickering specks of the sky, he half-convinced himself he'd imagined the existence of Tranquility Base Hotel and Casino.

There was no way technology had come that far already.

A fellow photographer, back from dancing in his underpants, approached Alex and the red-headed woman lounging dazedly on a corner of the bright orange seating pit, a patterned cushion on his lap as she was giggling to herself about nothing at all.

The photographer grooved his way over to the jaunty crooners music playing, forgetting about social embarrassment for the evening.

"Hey look, it's Kier-rablundsd." Alex's mouth lost its grip on the words and instead he chose to lift a finger at the approaching man, failing spectacularly as his eyes began to blink.

One shaggy blond head of hair or two?

Kieron also seemed to find everything funny as well, as he crawled over the white oval coffee table casing something small in his fist, guffawing the entire time.

"Little Alex has found himself his coke has he?" said Kieron with a dopey grin and strong American accent, "well why doesn't he try what I've got going here."

The half-naked man shook his closed fist at Alex. Alex's face scrunched.

"Watcha got there?"

Kieron smirked, opening up his palm to Alex. Alex's old friend rested tranquil in the small paper square.

"No, Kier, I-I can't. Not with these folks." He flapped his hand dismissively.

Kieron's face soured, and Alex knew it was honest as Kieron was not the kind to make that face when sober.

"You rat bastard. You're already swimming in coke with the economists, d'you think they're gonna give a fuck about a bit of acid?"

"Man, I can't...Last time it-it hurt," said Alex, his eyelids weighing down on him.

Kieron placed a sloppy hand on Alex's shoulder, shaking him a bit.

"Come on man, you're passing out. We need to get you wide awake. You're no fun otherwise. And hey, imagine being the guy who can say 'I got fucked up by LSD on the moon'."

Alex shuffled his feet on the vibrantly coloured rug beneath him. His sweat glued him to the sofa.

"Fine. But just one."

Kieron smirked, bringing one of Alex's palms out and placing the paper in it. It was decorated with a small yin yang symbol. His mouth salivated at the sight.

All he had was the one point perspective, and it was right there in his grasp.

Every dose was a gamble. Sometimes he would fantasise, delve into the colours of his mind, and later he could use the combinations for photo composition. No surprise a lot of his most successful shots were acclaimed to be reminiscent of the swinging sixties era.

Other times, it would make him call it quits. The hallucinations would locate his shadow self, target the worst parts of him and his freedom fell to bits. By the time reality hit, his creativity went on the fritz and he was confined to his bed for the next month.