Reader rating 17+.
A gritty and surreal chemical-fuelled 21st century romance.
When I woke up she was gone. There was nothing to tell me that she’d been here, except for the lingering smells of our union. For a brief moment, I thought it had been a dream, but then I found the Rizla packet where I’d scribbled her name and a mobile phone number. Her name is Catherine. It should have been something more exotic, like Cleopatra. She was small, thin and dark, almost otherworldly. Her eyes hypnotised me. They were fathomless and deep, and I fell in. Once in, I couldn't get out again until sleep overcame me. I didn’t go to the club looking for a fuck. I'm not that sort of person, not anymore. At least, I’m trying not to be that sort of person. I no longer enjoy casual sex. But this was not casual sex. It was so much more …