she was drunk on cheap cider. or was she cheap having drunk cider?
either way, we woke up in the morning tangled under the tarpaulin outside the pie factory.
the sun reflected off her teeth brace as she smiled a coy smile.
unfortunately, the beam of light set fire to my boxer shorts and i had to cool off in a vat of offal.

she asked me if i'd taken precautions.
i said no.  i only had one pair of boxers with me.
no, she said.  precautions ... you know.
oh, i said.  let's put it this way.  maybe we should decide on a name.

it was then that i realised i didn't even know her name.

... to be continued ...