“Holy crap!” Mum shouts as a bike skyrockets past her, narrowly missing her little feet. “The bikes really own the roads and the bloody pavements here, don’t they?”
“Maybe you shouldn’t stand in the bike lane, Ma.”
“Oh, whoops.”
She hops onto the pavement next to me and grabs my arm. Eventually, we manage to…
"The game is called Presidents," one of the French girls is saying, gesturing excitedly the way people explaining card games do, her words coming to me through a haze of smoke. "And the aim of the game is..."
But I can't catch what she's saying. Right now, I'm the dumbest, slowest version of myself, my…
The lights have just come up and I’m high as a kite. The last DJ is putting records into boxes and the crowd is dispersing. I look at my friends around me. Their eyes are dinner plates.
“Woah…” Mag says, who has spent the last hour convinced he is a pirate in a medieval era…