SWAMP-WADING STARFIGHTER/沼地-宇宙船の水遊び

The auction was simple enough; bidders were scarce, the platform was clean and I was strutting right out of my last paycheque. I won of course, losing was never an option - they were to be the perfect keystone to my outfit for Ami’s birthday party - I had already previously decided on my sky-washed distressed jeans and my ASTROWORLD Tour oversized tee.

For weeks on end I thought of nothing but this proposed gathering of bodies, the unlimited potential of such a night. On thronged trains to and from my miserable place of work I constantly daydreamed of likely developments arising out of the concoction of alcohol, music and dim lighting. It was honestly intoxicating — blurred visions of pretty girls and boys crashing into each other in the stormy Sea of Saturday. ‘Keen’ was an understatement, it was anticipation akin to a baser feeling like ‘hunger’.

The night never came, the fireworks never bloomed. The fantasies ceased some days after the disappointment and it was eventually decided that a trip to the disco would fit as compensation. On the night of, afraid of getting my grail dirty against the grime, I opted to don some old boots instead.