Perry had had hangovers before but this one was internally percussive in ways he’d never previously experienced. Opening his eyes wasn’t an option, frankly, so he reached out with his right hand. It seemed trapped in a glove. Ditto his left. Still eschewing sight he sniffed. The air smelt damp and cool. Carefully he lifted an eyelid; everywhere was comfortably dark.

Perry sighed. There was a depth to the blackness which suggested he was indoors yet the air didn’t feel room-like. A shed maybe. Or some industrial unit. He ventured a cough, testing the echo but the noise seemed to disappear immediately he let it go.

Now both eyes were open and even though he couldn’t see anything he felt better. Then he wondered if he was wearing a mask. He poked out his tongue. It pushed against cloth.

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