When the Sun and the Moon Collide
Chapter One
Mr. Sandman walked to the door of Dr. Benzedrine’s office. He has heard this doctor has ‘special’ methods to treating ‘special’ problems. As the Sandman, he didn’t want to admit to being an insomniac. He knocked on the door three times when he heard a voice, “No, try again.”
“What? Did I do something wrong?” Sandman shouted at the unseen person.
“Try the knock again.” The voice said.
“I don’t know. Please, just tell me.” Sandman told the voice.
The mysterious voice sighed and said, “Knock once for the Father, twice for the Son, and three times for the Holy Ghost. Memorize it, remember it, don’t forget it. Now try again.”
Sandman thought this was strange, but obeyed the voice anyways. He knocked once, twice, and then three times.
“Now you are welcome to come in,” the voice invited.
When Sandman walked into the office, he had to shield his eyes. The whole room was painted a bright shade of neon yellow. Sandman, being a man who works at night and wears nothing but black, he was not used to this environment.
“Sit, sit,” the doctor said. He had his back turned to Sandman. He took a seat in the plush arm chair.
“So,” Dr. Benzedrine said as he spun in his office chair to face Sandman. “What can I do ya for?”
“Well,” Sandman started, staring at his feet, “I have a problem.”
“You can’t sleep.” Benzedrine said.
“How’d you know?” Sandman asked.
“I’m Dr. Benzedrine, I know everything!” He exclaimed.
Sandman rolled his eyes, “So you can read minds, great.” He said sarcastically.
“Of course not!” Benzedrine smiled a huge smile.
“So can you help me?” Sandman asked.
“Ha! What kind of question is that, child? Of course I can!” Benzedrine exclaimed.
“Excuse me, I am older and taller than you, so don’t call me a child. If anything, I should call you a child.” Sandman said with a glare as he folded his arms over his chest.
“By the way you are talking, I believe I can call you a child.” Benzedrine smirked. Sandman just scoffed and rolled his eye again. “Do you want my amazing, fantastic, one-of-a-kind help or not?” Benzedrine said, annoyed. “I should warn you, just like my height, my temper is very short.”
“Fine, Benzy,” Sandman stood up and slammed his hands on the cream yellow desk, “What is this ‘one-of-a-kind help’” you speak of?”
“Well, what else?!” Benzedrine said with arms thrown in the air. “Benzedrine, of course, my child!”
“Not a child.” Sandman grumbled under his breath. Benzedrine gave him a glare as he went off to the cabinet and took out a bottle of bezedrine tablets.
“Take one every night before you go to bed.” Benzedrine commanded. Sandman swipes the bottle from him. Benzedrine glared once again. “My temper…” he said with gritted teeth.
“Yeah, sure, whatever, Benzy” Sandman said as he burst out the door. “Thanks for the meds.” He yelled toward the door.
Benzedrine hit the desk with his fist and said through gritted teeth, “I see how this one is going to be.”
“What? Did I do something wrong?” Sandman shouted at the unseen person.
“Try the knock again.” The voice said.
“I don’t know. Please, just tell me.” Sandman told the voice.
The mysterious voice sighed and said, “Knock once for the Father, twice for the Son, and three times for the Holy Ghost. Memorize it, remember it, don’t forget it. Now try again.”
Sandman thought this was strange, but obeyed the voice anyways. He knocked once, twice, and then three times.
“Now you are welcome to come in,” the voice invited.
When Sandman walked into the office, he had to shield his eyes. The whole room was painted a bright shade of neon yellow. Sandman, being a man who works at night and wears nothing but black, he was not used to this environment.
“Sit, sit,” the doctor said. He had his back turned to Sandman. He took a seat in the plush arm chair.
“So,” Dr. Benzedrine said as he spun in his office chair to face Sandman. “What can I do ya for?”
“Well,” Sandman started, staring at his feet, “I have a problem.”
“You can’t sleep.” Benzedrine said.
“How’d you know?” Sandman asked.
“I’m Dr. Benzedrine, I know everything!” He exclaimed.
Sandman rolled his eyes, “So you can read minds, great.” He said sarcastically.
“Of course not!” Benzedrine smiled a huge smile.
“So can you help me?” Sandman asked.
“Ha! What kind of question is that, child? Of course I can!” Benzedrine exclaimed.
“Excuse me, I am older and taller than you, so don’t call me a child. If anything, I should call you a child.” Sandman said with a glare as he folded his arms over his chest.
“By the way you are talking, I believe I can call you a child.” Benzedrine smirked. Sandman just scoffed and rolled his eye again. “Do you want my amazing, fantastic, one-of-a-kind help or not?” Benzedrine said, annoyed. “I should warn you, just like my height, my temper is very short.”
“Fine, Benzy,” Sandman stood up and slammed his hands on the cream yellow desk, “What is this ‘one-of-a-kind help’” you speak of?”
“Well, what else?!” Benzedrine said with arms thrown in the air. “Benzedrine, of course, my child!”
“Not a child.” Sandman grumbled under his breath. Benzedrine gave him a glare as he went off to the cabinet and took out a bottle of bezedrine tablets.
“Take one every night before you go to bed.” Benzedrine commanded. Sandman swipes the bottle from him. Benzedrine glared once again. “My temper…” he said with gritted teeth.
“Yeah, sure, whatever, Benzy” Sandman said as he burst out the door. “Thanks for the meds.” He yelled toward the door.
Benzedrine hit the desk with his fist and said through gritted teeth, “I see how this one is going to be.”