Music filled the tiny flat, dance, garage, rave blasted the thin plaster walls, they were fortunate not to have neighbours either side. Inside the front bedroom, although the night was warm, windows were closed shut, curtains drawn across, smoke gave the air a foggy atmosphere, two figures writhed naked on the double bed, the quilt had fallen to the floor, but it was ignored as they pushed each other to the end of the journey. The room was clean and basic, a cabinet beside the bed, a single wood wardrobe, carpet and a chest of drawers. The wallpaper had not been changed since she took the lease, three walls had good clean paper but the third had half the paper missing so the plaster was exposed underneath. On the side of the bed evidence of the fuel the party was running on, lay strewn over the top. Two tall glasses, half emptied, pills, blue with an imprint of a dove on each side, and tin foil on to which heroin had been melted. The foil tube lay across the foil, crumpled, but clear. On the bed the shouts were joined by screams, the music drowned their sounds, they separated and lay sweating next to each other and let the ocean subside. “What a fuckin’ ride” he panted, turning his head only to look at her. If he was expecting any sort of reply then he would have been disappointed, he smiled and turned his head to look at the ceiling. The light needed a shade, up on an elbow he reached over to the side. She lay still paying full attention to the jolts that were sending beautiful charges to her stomach and vagina, then spreading out from head to toe. “Oh, fuck, that feels so good” she then tensed her pelvic muscle sending a secondary wave of pleasure to her nerve endings. “Pass that foil, Blue” her long lashes flashed open, green cat eyes focused in on the heroin on the foil.