It was there, among the horrifying crowd of drunken, drugged out of their minds, young people that I saw what people really are.
I saw it on their faces as they walked passed, spilling their drinks.
Or when I saw those who’d had too much sitting in dark corners drooling all over themselves.
That’s when I saw what people really were.
I could be wrong, of course, I was not in a completely stable state of mind at the time.
But I’m fairly sure that what I saw was right.
That I’d seen people.
Really seen them.
Seen their inner workings, what made them tick, what made them work.
I’d seen all of it, during one, greatly enjoyed, week filled with alcohol, drugs and some of the most amazing people you’ll ever meet.
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Categories: flash fiction