Where am I?
He awoke with the familiar taste of stale budget vodka in his mouth. He was cold and his bed didn't feel right. He unglued his eyelids and was greeted by the bright sun.
I guess I didn't make it home last night.
He was lying in a field and his back was wet. He couldn't feel anything from the waist down.
What's that smell?
He sniffed like a Bisto Kid and turned his head in the direction of the petrol aroma. There was a partly-crumpled car, upturned with one wheel spinning lazily about 50 metres from where he now found himself.
Shit.
He tried to piece together the events which had led up to this, but his mind was blank.
He could see blue flashing lights arriving by a gap in the fence a short distance away.
He would have some explaining to do.
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