Glastonbury 2000 AD
Mist rolls down the hill like the cigarette I attempt to build while looking for my mate somewhere in the jumble of moving bodies. It could be him climbing the fence in front of the DJ or maybe not. It doesn’t matter. The bottle of communal poppers finds its way to me I take a massive fucking sniff and manage to get the top back on before my brain explodes. Raising my hands to the sky in reverence to the God of drugs or techno or blanket stalls or whatever. I notice a guy leaning against something his skin is as white as the morning light. He has long hair and smiles at me he knows that I know and I think he could be Jesus.