A Disintegration Loop

A number of nocturnal recollections have been floating in and out of view of late, mostly involving people I am vaguely familiar of from being an undergraduate (someone called Mark, who lived along Dereham Road, possibly a friend of Toby). This one, however, is a fortnight old, and features none of them. 'I have returned home, and plans are afoot for some sort of coastal based japes, possibly along the east coast near Cleethorpes from the look of a map I spy my brother perusing. Later, most people are gone, outside discussing the relative merits of certain forms of transportation. I couldn’t care less. Inside, in a house that is a combination of Chris’ nan’s/Stefan’s and somewhere I stayed on holiday as a child, Richard Bacon kicks around a variety of objects, including an old pair of my glasses, which he eventually crushes. I’m starting to go off the coastal idea. We are outside instead, by a large house in a field overlooked on all sides by cliffs. There is a game happening. It...