The taste of fruit and honey in my mouth is sweet and strange. There is a figure standing atop the crumbling wooden post. Chaime, Ciac, He stands with...his arms spread, as if crucified."This pillar is my love for you," he says in a voice not his own, "But you do not love me."As he speaks the post begins to crumble, the age old wood rotten and weak, dust implodes and Ciac falls into the hole where the post used to be set. I try and reach for him, but his body lies broken and lost on the concrete.. It was the biggest blast he'd ever had, even including the first time he had sex. But Psychlone wasn't making a penny from it. Not even a measly grand or so. And the other acts giving it out were also all giving it for free. Although Psychlone knew enough from his university studies in Political History that there were fewer more hackneyed clichés in the history of alternative or underground culture, this whole thing was being done for the cause of World Peace.But this time it was deadly. More

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