A bottle found washed ashore, a clear liquid within instead of a lost message. It seemed only right to take it home and start sampling the well-traveled contents from across the sea and beyond.
The substance appears to be vodka, with an intense whiff of grapes. A sample confirms the suspicions, and a stinging sensation follows, with the taste of grapes seeping though, conquering all. It overrides the vodka, it overrides the coke, it overrides the soul. It takes control and my eyes begin to water as it continues to sting. My friend has a similar reaction. The only sensible thing to do is to start chugging it down.
It has stopped stinging and now the virtues can quite clearly be tasted.
‘What do you think?’ I ask. My friend has invited her twin sister along, we have nothing left for her.
‘I’m a dinosaur’ my friend says. She gets like that sometimes, nothing to do with the drink.
‘Triassic, Jurassic or Cretaceous?’
‘Raptor!’ She pounces and I’m running, I can’t stand Raptors. She fades out. I can only hear my heart pa-thump.
I don’t know how much time has passed. It’s cold, the empty bottle clasped in my hands. My friend isn’t here, just me and my bottle.
And I don’t know where I am.
A 34.678 out of 43.256 then.