Where were you when the Laughter stopped?
There was no laughter tonight, only the sounds of doom and death and failure - a relentless torrent of death signals: from the sheriff, in the mail, on the phone, in my kitchen, in the air, but mainly from Maria, who said she felt it very very strongly and she understood exactly why I was thinking the way I did / do, but there was nothing she could do about it. She couldn't help her self. It was the death of fun, unreeling right in front of us, unravelling, withering, collapsing, draining away in the darkness like a handful of stolen mercury. Yep, the silver stuff goes suddenly, leaving only a glaze of poison on the skin.
Hunter S Thompson
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