The Sword of Sobriety

Cohen emailed his report, and at midday the city slowing down for Shabbat, his depression catching up to him. He nibbled at a golden hunk of psilocybin he'd got from Gull,. The exquisite intricate order of things was so breathtaking that tears filled his eyes. In that vast order he too had a place. No, he was not lost. On the contrary, he would be shown the way if he only opened himself to the signs.