Peeko Pacifiko by Ken O'Steen

  This was where the stream of images accelerated, and indeed lifted off. The first thing that struck me was the presence of hippies. Not Time Machine hippies, but new ones, in hippie-looking garb. Now THIS is an amusement park I said to myself. Disneyland, only with freaks…the good kind of freaks, too. We rode the Roller Coaster that crossed the ocean. We rode the Rocket Ship that glided above the mountains. We rode the motorcycles; then we rode the pick-up truck that had the canvas stretched across the back to keep you dry. Every word that came out of our mouths showed up on the sides of buildings or flashing neon signs. We cackled. We howled. I pointed us in the right direction.

  Then I wanted out. Or I wanted in. I wasn’t sure. I charged at the door at full speed, and banged hard against it with my shoulder. I broke out glass. I splintered wood. I crawled, I slithered. And then…I followed the tunnel into the Great Light. I came face to face with my Creator.

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