His brown eyes followed every country road up the hills, and I traced the map from the city to the wilderness that tempted my battered heart. I sat in the shotgun seat of his Toyota, dreaming of that moment – right there.

It was a crowded club floor and a half-dozen vodka waters that led me to you. All it took was the first dance and I knew.

And those pages are amongst my favourite of storylines – unexpected, nearly run-of-the-mill. But in a land of time where these Polaroid moments have blended in with the obsolete, it is my love for madness that saves those archaic street lamps from dimming.

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