LOST

src="http://apps.rockyou.com/dot.gif?w=SS&d=1B073&c=1&id=71920121&=.gif">

Homer didn’t know where he was or why he had appeared here. Darkness greeted his senses wherever he looked, as a cricket sang somewhere in the night.

Shutting his eyes, he expected things to be fine when he opened them again. He blamed the Indian for pouring something in his drink, as he ran through the fields with no clothes on.

“Help me,” he said.

The wind answered his question. Homer must have lost his clothes while rushing through the jungle in his dreams, as he had been afraid of something in the night. He remembered wandering through his home in the middle of the night during his childhood, when he had crashed with the furniture and other things. Night terrors his mother had called them.

The doctor had given him some tablets to take before going to bed and Father Ricardo had blessed him with holy water but he still wandered about the shop or anywhere else he might be. The sound of drums brought him back to reality, disturbing the stillness of the night. Homer blamed the Indian for his misfortune. Then the sounds of a river roaring amidst the darkness brought him back to reality and his fear of the unknown.

Whilst moving towards the water shining under the light of the moon, a thousand insects illuminated his path along the shores of a strange world.

The moon shone overhead, while dark shapes adorned the horizon, bringing back the memories of his nightmares. If he followed the shore, he might find the Indian sleeping on his mat and the mules munching the grass by the tent. The man must have tricked him into coming in this journey of waking dreams.

“You were stung by an animal,” a voice said.

Homer saw Jose clutching a toy in his hands, but he didn’t feel afraid of the apparition, another sign of coming madness.

“I want to go home,” Homer said.

“Do you talk to yourself often?” the child asked.

“You are here.”

“I might be.”

“What do you mean?”

“You have to find her,” Jose said.

Following his pointing finger, Homer saw dark shapes under the moonlight, like giants ready to fight with him in his dreams. He wanted to flee the scene before they killed him forever.

“She’ll save you,” Jose interrupted his thoughts.

“I’m already in hell.”

Homer found huts with conical roofs, but no one seemed to inhabit them. On entering one of them, he found a hammock hanging in the darkness. He had been there on a night of death and desolation, when his world had crumbled into nothingness somewhere in time.

“Where is everyone?” Homer asked.

“They might have gone,” Jose said.

“I don’t understand.”

The child disappeared, leaving Homer alone with his fear. On looking inside the hammock, he found a blanket waiting for him to go to sleep, as a dark shape threatened to swallow the universe. He remembered the huts amidst the trees under the light of the moon in another reality, as the sound of the drums echoed around the place.

With his face under the blankets, he waited for the monsters to go away. Homer had come here to get the heads before his night terror turned everything upside down. He had to find the Indian once more.

Then he heard footsteps in the darkness. At first he thought ghosts had come to get him, but then a girl appeared holding a candle in her hands, while other shadows hovered in the background of her world. Shutting his eyes, Homer expected her to go away by the time he opened them again.

“Help me,” he said.

The shadows quivered at the sound of his voice, while the candle dissolved in drops of wax. As the women chanted, the girl got inside the hammock, making it move across the precipice of hell. He felt her body next to his, her naked beauty an allure to his senses, while her lips tasted of strawberries.

“Who are you?” he asked.

“Mmm,” she said.

“No one talks in the jungle,” he said.

She touched him with her erect teats and soft skin, her pubic hair darker than the night. Homer had to be hallucinating or the Indian wanted to keep him happy with his drugs.

“I like you,” Homer said.

“Mmmm,” she said.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Kam,” she said.

“You understand me.”

“Kam,” she said.

Squashed against her breasts, Homer heard her muttering more things in language scientists might classify with a strange name.

“I have waited for you all my life,” he said.

“Kam,” she said.

“Homer smiled. “I know.”

He didn’t notice what happened to the other people, as he promised her eternal love in the kingdom of the shadows, even if he didn’t get the heads.

Homer loved Kam but she adored an idol made of mud, baked in a town full of ghosts. After making love to her for an eternity, he saw the Indian by the hammock. The man moved towards them, dressed in a white gown and his hair plaited around his face.

“Welcome to our town, Mr Homer,” he said.

“You speak my language.”

“Of course I do, Mr. Homer.”

“I came here in a night terror,” Homer said.

“The Gods led you to us.”

“What Gods?”

“The ones who live in heaven,” the Indian said.

“You must have drugged me.”

The Indian shrugged. “We have been looking after you.”

“I don’t like your poisons.”

Kam tried to stop the argument, while arousing him with her fingers under the blankets.

“She loves you,” the Indian said.

“Why don’t you let me go?” Homer asked.

“You are sick.”

“I’m not.”

“Prove it then,” the Indian said.

Homer tried to stand up, holding the sides of the hammock, but fell back inside the blankets.

“You must take our potions,” the Indian said.

Cupping his face in her hands, the girl sucked Homer’s ears while caressing his chest.

“She cares about you, Mr. Homer.”

“Does she?”

She made sure he swallowed the herbs she had put in his mouth a few moments before. They had to be good for his heath or for whatever purposes they kept him prisoner in a hammock.

“I want my heads,” Homer said.

“I never promised anything, Mr. Homer.”

“You won’t have any more coca then.”

“We have enough for the moment.”

“Thieves,” Homer said.

He remembered the bags of coca he had left in the tent, before disappearing into the night. The Indian must have taken them to his village, forgetting the promise of the heads. Feeling angry for luring him into a world of sex and pleasures of the flesh, Homer pushed her away.

“I want to go home,” he said.

“You must remember, Mr. Homer.”

“I don’t understand,” Homer said.

He felt weak. It had to be the herbs she had put in his mouth before. They had made him feel sleepy, while his mind tried to escape from his captors.

“Kam will make you better,” the Indian said.

“I don’t believe,” Homer said.

“You want Kam, Mr. Homer.”

Homer stopped struggling, even though he didn’t have the heads. As the girl caressed his chest, they made love amidst the blankets of his dreams and by the time dawn came, he felt the happiest man on earth.



<a
<div align="center">
car stereo systems</div>