The Reveries of Orlie Greene

Eighteen-year-old Orlie loves breaking into abandoned houses to bring home goodies like record players and hula hoops. She grew up on the outskirts of Kansas City, hiding out on an old farm. She and her parents are the only survivors in their family after pandemics killed billions of people throughout the 2060's.

Naïve like Alice in her garden, isolated from a world of politics, money and fuel. Rather than singing with the flowers, Orlie smokes them. After a puff of blue lotus, Orlie meets a beautiful girl named Queenie wandering through the woods who tells her that a music festival is springing up in Arizona. Apparently, they've built a tower that can harness energy from the sky.

Having always dreamed of finding a way out of Kansas, Orlie doesn't hesitate to say yes when she's invited to hitch a ride on Queenie's solar powered motorcycle.

Orlie's world turns inside out when she drinks a hallucinogenic beer called "the Kykeon brew" and somehow she ends up all on her own.

Stranded in the middle of a disintegrating highway with a deep, bloody gash in her leg. Orlie tries to piece together what happened. Luckily, she meets a couple who are headed in the same direction but their fungus-fueled car breaks down.

While they hike the rest of the way, Orlie's mind plunges into psychedelic dreamscapes. Whatever she drank in New Mexico still has a stronghold on her psyche. To make matters worse, mushrooms have started growing out of the gash on her leg.

Read the first six chapters here!

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Better than sex.

hippie-girl-dancing

I’m in love.

With the rush I get deep down in my gut when I hear that tune and the goosebumps flicker up my arms. Feelin’ all the itty bitty hairs get tingly at the nape of my neck. And when the sun decides to peek out behind grey clouds, the day takes a total turnaround.

The feelings that come from inside.

After breaking a sweat and it’s dripping down the side of my ribs and onto my back. The cool wind sweeping the heat off the top my head. Smelling salt in the air from all the bodies around me. All swaying to their own particular groove. Oh the moves.

The rush that beats within.

The grass under my feet, feeling the earth’s primal beat. Flowing up my legs and into my skull and dispersing all around me. To be a kid again. To let myself play and twist and contort my body in whatever way I find sweet.

It helps me forget.
All the little pieces of things I’ve clung to.
Swing ’em off baby. Fuck it.