Excerpt: The Science of Bubbles

Somehow, we had made it across the garden from the back door, towards the large tree that grew at the end of the lawn. The tree was old and contorted, like an arthritic hand, it's lower branched reaching awkwardly downwards, their many fingers making convenient rungs up which we had scaled since we were old enough to climb it. And it was up through these gnarled fingers that I had somehow climbed, safely cocooned in my bubble of pot-fuelled invincibility. But the pot had also robbed me of some of my finer motor skills, and I had somehow lost either footing or balance, probably both, and fell all of 2 feet from the lowest branch, a descent that felt like a thousand miles and took several minutes in my drug addled brain.

This was my moment of revalation, this was when fate conspired to bestow an epic epiphany upon a drugged-up, horny schoolboy.