Cellotager

Morning sun and the birds are singing. It is so nice! At breakfast Cellotager prepared eggs of the „Urals“ with shredded fly agaric and wood garlic and cooked a energetic beverage of green cones. He set the table

directly upon the top of his white mountain. Then he sat on his small chair, breakfasted and enjoyed. The whole morning Cellotager starred into the universe smoking his magic pipe. It was full of his „magic“ tobacco. He meditated on the endlessness of space and philosophised on parallel worlds. His poor brain was almost cooking from effort, and then even more so, when his phone rang. It was his mother, from Egypt who asked difficult questions, for example: “My small cellotager, how are you there“? His brain did not even go to work. Damned, he did not know what he should answer to his mum. But our hero cold not be deterred. He spoke his magic spell calling a ghost – the master of the brain. Who then sat down on his shoulder and began whispering hard answers to all his mother‘s complicated questions into his ear.

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