An essay of mine has been published in The Tangerine Magazine. Short extract below.
I met Laura in a club. We kissed in a basement pounding to the bitter-sweet chorus of ‘Sorry’ by Justin Bieber. When the lights came on and we got kicked out I typed my address into her phone and hopped into an Uber while she went to find her bike. We’d agreed I would leave my front door on the latch.
I should have predicted that she wouldn’t show up; she’d sober up and decide to go home, she’d realise she was too drunk to come to my house. Her phone died on the way to where I lived, but she met an acquaintance in the street and asked the way: with the occasional lucidity of the very drunk she remembered the postcode exactly. She walked through my front door and up the stairs and got into bed beside me.