One legged Bruce

I am sweating and have permanent lockjaw as I drag my feet through the burning sand looking for the beach shack that is meant to be in these hills somewhere.
One-legged Bruce gave me distinct directions just before the mushrooms kicked in, and the atoms of this world started vibrating out of control taking me with them.
There are vultures circling above me. No! Wait a minute, they are just seagulls.
Fuck I need fluids and the stabilising effect of cannabis. The glare is blinding and I can’t differentiate between reality and hallucinations.
I want to swim but I know these waters are full of sharks, that’s how Bruce became one-legged.
Way up in the sandhills I can see someone signaling to me through the haze of brilliant light, I think it’s Bruce but I can’t be sure.
He looks like a giant Goanna waving a massive tongue at me whilst balancing on his tail.
The cramps in my gut force me to head towards this talented lizard to find out what he wants from me in return for water.
It turns out to be Bruce balancing on one leg and gesturing to me to head his way.
His shack is buried under thick scrub and we are forced to crawl through a tunnel of thickets to enter.
Inside is cool and dark and my vision is blurred with dots, I try to re-focus.
Bruce hands me a glass of water and a joint then mutates back into the lizard man, the walls begin to crawl with life and the sand floor seems to be drawing me down into it.
I am trying to swallow the water without drowning myself as the fear takes grip and the living walls close in.
I think “Fuck Bruce I’ve got to get outside” or maybe I said it out loud because he is trying to show me the door as I start to panic.
Once outside I get a grip and sit under a shady tree to finish the joint off. Bruce is pissing himself as I stop sweating profusely and slowly calm down.
“Good mushies heh” he states through his grinning lizard mouth. “Oh yeah fucking great” I say back at him. “Where is that fresh water lake you were talking about?
I really need to immerse myself in water but not shark infested water, I need clean cool liquid. Water always has a calming effect on me and right now I need to be calm.
We wander over a few sand hills before coming to a clear blue lake. I felt like Lawrence of Arabia as we came over the last massive mountain of sand and rolled towards the water screaming “take no prisoners.” There were a couple of naked hippies swimming around and they stared at us as we stumbled into the water.
They were female I think, they looked like mermaids to me but swam away pretty quickly and disappeared into the hills.
I soon forgot about them and nearly forgot I had to breathe as I skimmed across the bottom of the lake. It wasn’t until I realised that the tight uncomfortable feeling in my chest was my human need to breathe.
Up until that moment I was amusing myself with the reflective patterns of the sun on the sandy bottom. I almost blacked out so I decided to float around on my back for a while.
It must have been a long while because when I bumped back to shore I noticed my skin had wrinkled up like a prune and the sun was setting behind the hills.
Bruce was gone the careless fuck and I had no idea where I was. At least I had come down a bit from the mushies and I was feeling semi-normal again.
I wandered the sand-hills for hours howling at the moon and talking gibberish to imaginary ghouls, eventually I came across the ocean and got my bearings.
I never did find Bruce's house again but I did find my way home.