She was in the middle of doing a little twirl, her arms winding around themselves like a bellydancer's. But she paused, her face turned to look over her shoulder.

Huh.

It was probably a trick of the pot. The stuff they had here put everything she'd tried in the sixties to shame. But it wasn't like her normal kind of trip. She usually didn't see things or people from the past. Usually, it was more about synesthesia. She would hear the color purple. Or smell the music around her. Or see a loving embrace.

"I think I'm singing the wrong Bon Jovi song."