“You what?”
“I... Look, you’ve just got to try it.”
“Um.” She looked down at the brown, granular concoction in the little bowl. There was a spoon.
“Just take a small spoonfull, you’ll see what I mean.”
She fastidiously knocked the spoon against the side of bowl, then took a small amount of the brown stuff on the end of the spoon. She looked up at her friend with a certain amount of trepidation, then back down at the spoonfull of...
Something new, according to Jesse. Jesse, who had a PhD in Chemistry and an... experimental streak. Jess, who had gotten her into all the really bad trouble she’d ever been in, from being suspended from kindergarden to being arrested at her own bachelorette party. Well, not at the party, precisely...
She closed her eyes and put the spoon in her mouth.
Some sort of explosion happened in her mouth. The concoction fizzed, actually fizzed, like extra-strength pop rocks. Her eyes flew open and her hands flew to her mouth, the spoon clattering on the table top, and she’d have spit it out except...
Except for the taste, which was like nothing she’d ever experienced. It was like blinking, and then opening her eyes and seeing an entirely new color. It was something like ‘sweet,’ but...
But not sweet. It was something entirely different. She opened her mouth...
And she saw entirely new colors. Jesse was a different color; her kitchen was a different color; her hands...
Her hands were colors she’d never imagined.
“What the fuck...” She blurted it out, then looked up at Jesse who was grinning and a sort of... she didn’t even know. Some sort of not-bluish not-green. “What the fuck did you do to me?”
“Don’t worry,” said Jesse. The words came out as breaths of color. “It only lasts a few minutes. Are you getting the color thing?”
“The color thing,” she said. “The... Jesse, what the fuck is it...?”
“Sugar,” said Jesse. “Sugar, mixed with a tiny amount of this stuff my lab came up with...”
“Jesse, what’s it doing to me?” She was right on the verge of panicking. Everything was strange and new; her kitchen was... as foreign as she’d ever seen anything.
“Synesthesia,” said Jesse. “Sort of. More like... NeoSynthia. It affects everyone a little differently... some people see all new colors, some people hear new sounds, new smells... and also seem to conflate other senses with whatever new sensation they get, so people who get new smells also see things around them in smell.”
“Fuck, Jesse, this is... I can’t decide whether to freak out or giggle.” The words were sparkling, effervescent in the air, flowing out of her mouth like a glitter cloud.
“Don’t worry about it,” said Jesse. “It’s going to start fading any minute now.”
“Not sure I want it to,” she said. “I mean...”
Jesse smiled and tapped the bowl, which was still full of the sugary mix.
“How much...”
“It’s a waste product of another thing we were working on,” said Jesse. “We were working on a new process, which was cheaper than anything else out there, and... well, this stuff was left over. We’ve got barrels of the stuff.”
“Barrels of...?” She tapped the bowl.
“Oh,” said Jesse, “No. I mean... This is a cup of brown sugar mixed with a tablespoon of our new compound.”
“Seriously.” She looked up at Jesse, then blinked as the colors started to fade. She was... something else was going on.
“Jess, I think you’re going to be briefly very rich and then go to prison...” She looked around at the bar in which their story was being written. “Um. Are there any side effects?”
“Yes.” Jesse waved around her. “Two major ones. First, it makes you aware of the narrative process which makes up our reality; breaks the fourth wall, so to speak.”
“The... narrative process?”
“Yes. The nature of reality is... well, remarkably clear, in the hour or two after you’ve had a dose of this stuff. It allows you to clearly see the circumstances and thoughts and motivations of the person writing the story we’re characters in.”
“Characters... in a...”
“His story.” Jesse pointed directly at me. “We’re figments of his imagination. It’s impossible to tell, except when you’ve had a dose of this stuff...”
She looked at him, aghast. He was clearly there, and clearly in control of the situation, all of it flowing from the tips of his fingers. She was a puppet; Jesse was a puppet. She felt her worldview shift, old assumptions falling away...
“You said two,” she said. “What’s the other?”
“It makes you bisexual,” said Jesse. “And very horny.”
Her eyes narrowed, and she glared out at me.
“Typical,” she said.
“I... Look, you’ve just got to try it.”
“Um.” She looked down at the brown, granular concoction in the little bowl. There was a spoon.
“Just take a small spoonfull, you’ll see what I mean.”
She fastidiously knocked the spoon against the side of bowl, then took a small amount of the brown stuff on the end of the spoon. She looked up at her friend with a certain amount of trepidation, then back down at the spoonfull of...
Something new, according to Jesse. Jesse, who had a PhD in Chemistry and an... experimental streak. Jess, who had gotten her into all the really bad trouble she’d ever been in, from being suspended from kindergarden to being arrested at her own bachelorette party. Well, not at the party, precisely...
She closed her eyes and put the spoon in her mouth.
Some sort of explosion happened in her mouth. The concoction fizzed, actually fizzed, like extra-strength pop rocks. Her eyes flew open and her hands flew to her mouth, the spoon clattering on the table top, and she’d have spit it out except...
Except for the taste, which was like nothing she’d ever experienced. It was like blinking, and then opening her eyes and seeing an entirely new color. It was something like ‘sweet,’ but...
But not sweet. It was something entirely different. She opened her mouth...
And she saw entirely new colors. Jesse was a different color; her kitchen was a different color; her hands...
Her hands were colors she’d never imagined.
“What the fuck...” She blurted it out, then looked up at Jesse who was grinning and a sort of... she didn’t even know. Some sort of not-bluish not-green. “What the fuck did you do to me?”
“Don’t worry,” said Jesse. The words came out as breaths of color. “It only lasts a few minutes. Are you getting the color thing?”
“The color thing,” she said. “The... Jesse, what the fuck is it...?”
“Sugar,” said Jesse. “Sugar, mixed with a tiny amount of this stuff my lab came up with...”
“Jesse, what’s it doing to me?” She was right on the verge of panicking. Everything was strange and new; her kitchen was... as foreign as she’d ever seen anything.
“Synesthesia,” said Jesse. “Sort of. More like... NeoSynthia. It affects everyone a little differently... some people see all new colors, some people hear new sounds, new smells... and also seem to conflate other senses with whatever new sensation they get, so people who get new smells also see things around them in smell.”
“Fuck, Jesse, this is... I can’t decide whether to freak out or giggle.” The words were sparkling, effervescent in the air, flowing out of her mouth like a glitter cloud.
“Don’t worry about it,” said Jesse. “It’s going to start fading any minute now.”
“Not sure I want it to,” she said. “I mean...”
Jesse smiled and tapped the bowl, which was still full of the sugary mix.
“How much...”
“It’s a waste product of another thing we were working on,” said Jesse. “We were working on a new process, which was cheaper than anything else out there, and... well, this stuff was left over. We’ve got barrels of the stuff.”
“Barrels of...?” She tapped the bowl.
“Oh,” said Jesse, “No. I mean... This is a cup of brown sugar mixed with a tablespoon of our new compound.”
“Seriously.” She looked up at Jesse, then blinked as the colors started to fade. She was... something else was going on.
“Jess, I think you’re going to be briefly very rich and then go to prison...” She looked around at the bar in which their story was being written. “Um. Are there any side effects?”
“Yes.” Jesse waved around her. “Two major ones. First, it makes you aware of the narrative process which makes up our reality; breaks the fourth wall, so to speak.”
“The... narrative process?”
“Yes. The nature of reality is... well, remarkably clear, in the hour or two after you’ve had a dose of this stuff. It allows you to clearly see the circumstances and thoughts and motivations of the person writing the story we’re characters in.”
“Characters... in a...”
“His story.” Jesse pointed directly at me. “We’re figments of his imagination. It’s impossible to tell, except when you’ve had a dose of this stuff...”
She looked at him, aghast. He was clearly there, and clearly in control of the situation, all of it flowing from the tips of his fingers. She was a puppet; Jesse was a puppet. She felt her worldview shift, old assumptions falling away...
“You said two,” she said. “What’s the other?”
“It makes you bisexual,” said Jesse. “And very horny.”
Her eyes narrowed, and she glared out at me.
“Typical,” she said.
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