It was a bright summer day, the yellow sunlight bounced off the light gray buildings, soaking the wide plaza with golden highlights. Four teenagers sat on the steps leading to a large limestone block. On top of it stood the status of one of Napoleon’s general, immortalized in bronze.

It was on these steps that I invoked the Goblin for the first time. One of my friend bought a spliff —a rolled cigarette made of tobacco mixed with hashish— to share it with us. I took a few hits, got dizzy from the tobacco, and after after a few minutes a wave of gentle euphoria washed over me. The bright sunny yellow and the trees’ green popped out, everything more vivid. This was new, this was fun, I loved it.

We sat there and talked about random things. I only took a few hits because I was afraid my parents would figure out I was high on something, I was eager to try no things, but truth is I probably took a hit because of peer pressure.

I walked home feeling nice, but once I got home I wasn’t too intoxicated. The effect had subsided after a couple of hours. What I felt was mostly tobacco, but in here there was a bit of the Goblin. A tiny bit of THC gave me a glimpse of him.

I felt the Goblin’s presence for the first time, it would be many years until we met again.