The bonsai magnolia tree had become infested with caterpillars and small lizards.  The caterpillars moved like a stream of agitated water over the roots of the tree and through the trunk.  The tree was all but dead.  Only a few leaves remained along the trunk, which was more like a husk.  The lizards were slowly eating the caterpillars, and changing colors from light green to brown to red as they moved over the tree.

I was coming back from a trip with James.  He was overcome by a neurosis that caused him to pick his skin, and the skin on his face had become so raw that he taped strips of colorful cereal boxes over his forehead, cheeks, and his square chin.  Cardboard armor faceplates.  Despite this strange armor he was very handsome.  He had a face that always reminded girls of Elvis Presley.  Clear blue eyes, magnificent chin.

All of our friends were coming over to the house to celebrate our return.  THey were mostly gnarly drunks with tattoos on their faces.  Not so much friends as drinking buddies.  Not so much buddies unless you were able to afford enough alcohol to keep them occupied all night.  I didn’t really want them in the house, so they sat on the front porch, dissecting the worm-eaten magnolia husk.