But Q wasn’t listening. He had slipped sideways into what he’d later call The Loop . A terrifying, beautiful recursion where every thought he had immediately became a memory of having that same thought a second ago. Past and present collided. He saw his childhood dog, then his father’s disappointed face, then a kaleidoscope of every test he’d ever failed.
Jack grinned, already chewing his portion. “Don’t be the trip mom, Jill. It’s a standard dose—two grams each.”
Jill, meanwhile, felt her training kick in. She checked her pulse: 98, fine. She drank water. She guided Q away from the mirror when he started whispering to his reflection. “You’re safe,” she said. “You took a drug. It will end.” shrooms q, jack and jill
“I’m breaking,” Q whispered. His skin was pale, pupils blown wide. “I’m not coming back.”
“That’s the point,” Q replied, his eyes too bright. “I need to dissolve the bad headspace.” But Q wasn’t listening
“This is a bad idea,” Jill said, sitting cross-legged on the worn-out couch. “Set and setting, Q. You’re in a bad headspace.”
“That I’m afraid of being ordinary,” Q said, voice raw. “And that being ordinary is actually… okay.” Past and present collided
“No,” Jill and Q said in unison.