You know how it is, when you're walking home late and you think think, shit this is a bad part of town and I'm absolutely smashed. You start to think what the toxicology reports might say and how angry your mother would be.
But even so the night smelt secretive; of damp dark air after the hot, hot dry heat today.
Anyway, I got lost leaving my friend's house, but all roads leading to Rome I found the main road and walked back to my flat. I bought chips on the way, hot and covered in salt and vinegar. I had my computer with me, since I had planned to leave the barbeque both early and sober and had been at the Wellcome Library beforehand writing fiction. I was sure I would be robbed, raped or murdered. But I'm home, with a cup of tea. Typing is arduous. I am going to bed.