Oh God, he had heard nightmare stories in university. Friends of friends getting drunk abroad and waking up missing weeks’ worth of memories because they weren’t careful. The thought caused an uncomfortable tightness in his gut, and his eyes went wide at the implications. One night, maybe two night’s memories missing because he fucked up? Unprecedented for him, but he could deal with it. Entire weeks? That was a bit beyond alcoholism. He took several deep breaths to calm himself. There had to be a rational explanation. One did not simply come home from work one night and then go off on a bender to end all benders without at least some people you know going out looking for you. He was okay, unhurt, and alive. He could deal. He could deal with having one epic mishap in his life that would probably go unaccounted for. He could deal with having to fork over a hundred pounds or so for a new phone. He could even deal with the flurry of colourful horse-shaped creatures flying above the village and playing with the clouds as if they were solid objects. He could—