my birthday party.
Fuelled by magic, or convincing trickery, shapes moved to the wavering beats. We were safely contained in a Universe with everything we wanted, yet we never left the three story terrace.
Come sobriety the smoke soaked cavern just had to be a figment of my imagination. It was a used set for a screen adaption of an Irvine Welsh novella.
I had, after all, asked for fiction for my birthday.
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