It’s a regular Tuesday morning in the late 1990s and Lucy* is on her way to her office job in the CBD. She’s wearing yesterday’s clothes and nursing a hangover, while trying to work out where she is exactly. She has no idea. Memories of the night before come back to her in fragments, like shards of glass. She remembers going for a casual Monday night drink after work, the man she met at the bar and the desperate need she felt to be with him. She doesn’t remember leaving the bar, how she got to the man’s apartment, if they used protection when they had sex, or even his name. In the harsh light of day, she has to squint to try to remember what his face looks like.
Lucy has been here before – not on this very street trying to get her bearings and find a taxi – but standing in the dark shadow of a drunken night and random hook-up. The worst part is, she knows she will probably do it all again that night. Come the afternoon, the screams of her hangover will be
