Manic Monday #1

spike (verb)
a: to add an alcoholic beverage to (a drink) [spiked the punch]
b: to add a foreign substance to [spike the coffee with tranquilizers]
c: to add something highly reactive [as a radioactive tracer] to
d: to add vitality, zest, or spice to [spike the broth with peppers]
e: to liven [spiked the speech with humor]

High

She sits alone in a café, whiling away hours that need to be whiled away. Though her feet (tired from walking for hours) are planted firmly on the ground her mind is soaring way up high, here and there, buoyed by the sights around her, the sounds she can't help but overhear, the bite of the spicy noodles lingering on her tongue despite cup after cup of fragrant tea.

She bends her head over her notebook, trying to record her impressions of this new city but for some reason she is finding it hard to write. The opening bars of a song from a musical keeps playing in her head, distracting her, almost making her giggle at times. A woman at the next table signals to the waitress that she wants another beer. She toys with the idea of having a beer herself but finally decides against it; after all, she still has miles to go before she sleeps.

She notices the sunlight becoming more mellow, turning into a softer shade of gold that she knows will soon become even balmier. Instead of the usual lethargy that she feels with the coming of dusk she finds herself feeling more energetic, more on edge (but in a good way, similar to the excitement that she feels when she's surrounded by books in the library or bookstore--multiplied a hundredfold). Her spirit, she realizes, is not at all like the motes of dust she notices floating lazily in the fading light. Her senses are sharper; every second that passes is savored, every sensation is burned into her memory.

Her dancing eyes fall upon her tea. Did the kitchen staff spike it with happy pills? she wonders. She tries (and fails) to stifle the smile that rises to her lips at the thought as she puts away her notebook and signals for the bill, which is brought to her immediately.

A man carrying what seems to be a suitcase comes up to her. He opens it and she sees a whole array of (presumably fake) Zippo lighters. He smiles at her. She smiles back.

"You buy lighter?" he asks in a singsong voice. She shakes her head no, graciously, taking a sip of her tea.

Without missing a beat and in the same tone of voice he segues into his next offer. "Marijuana?"

She nearly spits out her tea. "No, thank you," she sputters. But still smiling, still gracious. He nods his head, closes his case, turns and walks away. She feels a mad desire to shout after him, "I don't need it! I'm already high!" This time she makes no effort to suppress her grin.

She stands up, turning to thank the waitress and to bid her adieu. She wonders if the mirth in her eyes and her inability to stop her mouth from turning up at the corners seem strange to the other woman. No matter. She is happy and it shows.

The waitress's final view of this strange guest is of her walking out into the burgeoning twilight, a spring in every step, her face upturned--as if to receive the kiss of the early-morning sun...or that of a lover's.

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What is Manic Monday?
A multi-blogger meme, in the spirit of Wordless Wednesday, Thursday 13, Friday Feast, and Photo Hunters Saturday.

How to participate?
Visit Morgen's It's A Blog Eat Blog World any time after 4pm EST on Fridays to discover Monday's theme word. This will be a word with multiple definitions.

Use one of the definitions to inspire your Manic Monday Post = perhaps a photograph, a story, a joke, or a stream of consciousness paragraph inspired by the word. Be creative, and have fun with it.