My melting sneakers' soles smudged in a softened tarmac street, and in my thirsty vision, the road became marshland. I waded knee deep in boiling chewing gum, stood there in an Acheron bubbling in pale pink, like dirty hubba bubba.
Feet on fire, burns stinging all over my skin, I scaled a heap of rusty auto parts, and thereupon became dusty and old like a car.
Life's many hyperventilations vanished in thin air : where I was going and who I even was, or wanted to be. From the top, blissfully vacantly I overlooked a grand bowl of fog in the plain. Let me walk through this fog in peace, I thought. It might be narcotic. I might see white horses in there.
My first novel (similar style) on amazon http://amzn.to/1pal5op