It was the beginning of July and many of my friends had already left Edinburgh for the summer. I was about to leave too, for two months of travelling around North America. The only person left in town seemed to be Terminal Dave, this friend of mine who I mostly just argued with. We went out for drinks, maybe there were some other people too, and we argued as usual and eventually I lost him and didn’t bother trying to find him again. I think I was in the Jaffa Cake, which has a different name now if it’s even open at all. I think I just danced by myself and met people. I don’t exactly remember how it went, which is due to the mists of time rather than excessive drunkenness. But I remember making out with #54 on the corner of Rankeillor Street after walking back together. I couldn’t get over how light the sky was in Edinburgh at 4am in summer. It looked like the middle of the day except there was hardly anyone around. #54 and I spoke to each other in Spanish. He maybe had a shaved head and he maybe had a labret piercing but it’s possible that I’m totally making this up. He wanted me to stay out for a while, but I needed to get home to sleep, alone. Maybe I was leaving town the next day.