Don't drink and drive, smoke and fly!

___The sun descended on the slummiest part of city, the lower commons. Grunty the fallen spirit found herself liking this part more than any of the others. It’s saggy houses and painted brick walls stood in such stark contrast to what she’d lived her whole life in that it invigorated her with its freshness. Humming a merry tune, she was unaware of the concept of things getting more dangerous at night.
___Thus, as she continued her stroll, a man approached her. “Hey…” whispered a low, hoarse voice.
___She turned and looked at the guy, who stood there, coughing and covered with a cloak-like hoodie. From beneath his doo rag, his oddly gray hair blew in the slight breeze, and settled chaotically around his face, adding to his already homeless and disheveled appearance. “’Sup man?” the woman inquired.
___He smiled, “Nothing much,” and looked around briefly, seeming more out of habit than any particular need to do so. “Are you anywhere?”
___Not having much experience in this world, the woman took the question literally and nodded. “Yea, I’m here…”
___With the suddenness of an exhibitionist, the man pulled back his cloak to reveal various sized bags lining his coat, some full of prerolled joints and shredded pieces of plants. “Blue sky blonde… honey blunts… Northern Lights… Purple Haze… best skunk you’ll find in this city, I promise.”
___It was all rather sudden, indeed. Grunty jumped for a moment. Apparently he was not only a salesman, but a specialist. “Eh? Ummm… what?” She’d never seen a joint before. They held a similarity to the cigarettes she’d seen the apathetic youths outside of the coffee shop smoking, so she knew what they were for already, she just didn’t know about illegal drugs quite yet and that someone would try to push some on her seemed sort of odd. “How much exactly are you charging for that stuff?” Though penniless, she was still curious about prices of things around her.
___Long story short, he wanted entirely too much, but at the same time wouldn’t really take “no” for an answer. With a sigh, she began her low chant again and bound him with the ropes of electricity as she’d bound her vigilante friend before. After robbing him blind, she phased through a wall and settled on to the roof of a large garbage bin in a back alley. There were a goodly number of dollar bills. They made nice paper to roll the loose green “skunk” in. Cautiously, she sent a spark up her finger tip to light the paper and took a slow puff.
___Closing her mouth, she allowed the smoke to drift out of her nose and sighed. It was an ok smell… sweet and sour at the same time, but there didn’t seem to be anything special about it other than if it was completely necessary for her to breathe she might be coughing. The spirit grew impatient and mixed all the different kinds together and shook it up, rolling it with another dollar bill and taking a longer drag out of it. This time, she got more of an effect… or rather, she stopped caring about everything. In other circumstances she might’ve taken the rest of the money and gone to buy herself some coffee or a bowl of noodles, but nothing seemed to matter anymore… well, at least if she wanted the money still or the rest of the skunk, she couldn’t have reached it, as after that long drag she found herself literally floating. Floating high above the slums and looking down. The experience was sort of strange. She knew spirits of her kind could usually float or fly or whatever, but she’d given up trying a long time ago. Floating further and further up, she stared disbelievingly at the dollar and the little plant that made it possible for her to overcome this inhibition she’d had for life.
___ “I have to find out more about this stuff…” she thought. It was a matter of hours before she could land again, though. And once she did, she walked the streets again, searching for the salesman again. He was inching his way down the street, somewhat terrified. Smirking, she landed on his back to keep him in place. “What is this and where did you find it?”
___Expletives were her only answer. She stomped on his back, drawing forth a cry of pain and asked again. Unfortunately, his friends showed up, and she had to use her newfound flying skills to escape. Grunty would be back.