Oh Demise 1

I spotted the bar’s weather worn neon sign a quarter mile ahead.  I pulled up my bike and dismounted kicking up the dust with my boot and strolling towards the “Dead Man’s Drink”, a creaky shithole out in middle of nowhere. A concoction of delta and boogie blues clung to the moonlight like backwater quenching a dried up dam.  
I skulked in a loner bought a whisky and a beer and sat in the corner, avoiding the stares of the large groups of bikers, rednecks and bogans. In my periphery I caught a jewel in the rough, a vixen with cherry red hair and dark purple lipstick doused in a maze of scarring ink. She had me in the turbulence of some Mona Lisa eye trick, my heart pounding not knowing if her eyes were moving at all.
I got back on the road hoping to find some place to crash and found my salvation down a way in a crusty motel. An old hippy ran the place and all he had was vacancies.
“You got any cigarettes?”
“5 bucks a pack” He mumbled.
 I paid him noticing knots in his grey hair.
 I looked him over and asked.
“You got any acid?”
He just smiled.
I threw my duffel bag on the sticky carpet and myself on the bed. I fiddled with the tabs, moving the somewhat lumpy sheet between my fingers. Moving them to my lips, disregarding sleep I placed all of them in my mouth and sucked on the spitball of chemically soaked paper like a gobstopper. I got up to light a cigarette on the stove but before I could a fanatic thumping erupted.
“Hey! Open up!” Said the old hippy from before while he knocked upon the door.
He was red faced and out of breath though the office was not 30 yards away from my room.
“That acid was all melted together that was a whole stash of shit. Don’t take it”
“I just ate it all man!” I said shaking my head at him.
“Oh shit, it shouldn’t kill ye but I mean I could film it for like scientific research” He said.
I just rolled my eyes “Yeah that’s a terrific idea, you got any matches?” He threw me a box as I climbed on my bike. I lit a smoke and speed off.  The hippy waved his arms around and screamed.
 “My fucking matches!”
Here I am tearing into the night with a head of full acid and all that hippy fucker could think about was his matches?
I spurred the beast on peeling down the lonesome highway. I’ve forgotten the state I’m in but that doesn’t matter because tonight I feel might just crash into my fate.
I spotted something way ahead, a compilation of lights. As I got closer it appeared to me a massive gathering of tents, structures and scores of people teeming around. I had stumbled across some strange festival in the desert.
I kicked up the dust with my boot as I dismounted my bike…