Out of this world

After chucking-out time a few of us went round to Trev’s to smoke crack through a water-pipe. Water-pipes can be tricky and when it was my go I sensibly asked for assistance. Step forward an unusually introspective Trev, who held the pipe for me and diligently put a flame over the drug, leaving me free to concentrate on drawing the smoke that accumulated above the waterline steadily into my lungs. Then I retired from the mouthpiece, taking my lungful of Class-A smoke with me, and went and sat down on the sofa beside the others, feeling immediately warm and open-hearted.

At this point my phone rang. I fished it out of my pocket and looked at the screen. No name. A number I didn’t recognise. Normally if I don’t recognise the number I don’t answer, but I was feeling more beneficent, nay, left-liberal, by the minute, and I decided to take a chance and answer it.