A continuing story of Chaz the GELF, bartender at the Intergalactic Truckstop.

***

In to his knees now. The sap warm around his shins and between his toes, the colors shifting hypnotically round him. Chaz feels the year's tensions leaving him, going up into the air with the pollen. By next year he'll have a fresh new load, Commander Jameson alone will make sure of that... Forget him. Forget it all. He's here, it's now, he's happy.

Chaz isn't certain that sinking himself here is entirely legal, and he used to worry that one year he'd be arrested for Unauthorized Diving or Fly-Dumping. Fortunately the authorities don't care what happens on the plains, as long as it doesn't mess with their tourist-friendly tree.

Once again, big thanks to chaz-fox for letting me play with Chaz. See him in his native habitat.

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