a slice of life

On Friday night I smelt the evening air and remembered. I was waiting to cross the road in Bishopston, a studenty, pubby kind of area of Bristol to go to a leaving do and a waft of that especially autumnal night out smell that combines smoke, dust, beer fumes and some indefinable scent of excitement and youth brushed me. I closed my eyes and recalled being a fresher, the potential, the uncertainty of what the night would hold, the new of it all. It was rather buoying.
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