text: Sometimes in Scotland, once dusk has settled, and the gloaming is illuminated by the backdrop of a thousand flickering lights. A low harr will roll in, it sweeps up off the ocean, silently hugging the coast and gently settling over the land. It was on a crisp night like this, that I stepped out to pick up. The distant crash of waves against the concrete seawall were only superseded by the constant hum of traffic in the distance, crossing that low, rickety bridge, which seemed tonight, even more than most, to hug the surface of the silvery moonlit river. The trees that lined either side of the road swayed above me, bending, and creaking, their leaves dancing in unison to private melodies. Stopping for a second in the middle of the road, I allowed myself to take a deep gulp of the cold evening air, before turning the corner, down and into the housing estate. Soon, the colossal tenement buildings had engulfed me on all sides, and before I knew it, I was darting through narrow passageways and past towering walls of smooth concrete, peering up in almost involuntary awe at their hulking silhouettes, backlit against the falling sky. As, far above me, sun-bleached Saltires hung like the rags of victorious battle flags, and the light from a cigarette perforated the darkness every few seconds, as the muffled voices in the sky began to argue. I craned my neck back looking upwards until I could look no further, as I passed down, underneath the towering twenty-story tower block, which had once been the shining centre of the scheme. A suddenly the manmade light faded away, and I was ejected out, and into the undisturbed peace of the dark, empty park. The edge of the park was lined by a sheer wall of trees that stretched out far in front of me, rippling back and forth as the North Sea continued its relentless assault on the city. The park had no lights and staring into the darkness was like looking out into deep space, the cold black night lapped at the warm yellow glow, coming from the lampposts that littered the estate. Pulling my hood down, I slipped my keys between my fingers and formed a tight fist with my right hand, as I quickened my pace, pushing open the rusted gate and making my way under the loving, low-hung embrace of the treeline. Thirty seconds later, and the night's conquest of the sky was complete, standing in pitch darkness, feeling the concrete underneath my tattered reeboks, I looked up at the sky. The stars were fighting a losing battle, against the all-consuming light pollution that spilled out from the city below. Instead of being awash with twinkling lights, the night’s sky was filled by the spinning layer of burnt yellow pollution that hung in the air, swirling menacingly over the city. Up ahead, I heard two men before I saw them, they slowly loomed out of the darkness, one was sat on a rotten wooden bench, while the other stood behind him with his back to me pissing. His frame swaying gently in the wind, as his piss absentmindedly dribbled down, the leg of his muddy bootcut jeans. I nodded my head in silent approval at his seated friend, as he raised a crushed Tennant’s can in an unspoken sacrament, our eyes locked together, peering at each other through the dark night air. We squinted, studying each other, then as his friend sloped unsteadily back to the bench, he turned away, his eyes lost again to some unseen conversation. A warm glow broke through the treeline, as the park began to recede, the plants and bushes which had thronged me moments earlier, slowly petered out as the foliage gave way to an abandoned car park. Filled now, only with the clamped rotting remains of what had been a Nissan. Abandoned to the elements, the sea air was waging a war of attrition against its bright blue body paint, which had begun to rust and flake away. I watched the streetlight bounce and reflect, dancing across the surface of the corroded bonnet, and, as I felt the smooth concrete underfoot, give way to uneven cobblestones, I exited the park and re-joined humanity. Just across the street, a brown, squat, ramshackle tenement building, sat unloved and isolated at the end of the block. Bounding over the road and up the stairs I waited at the door, looking through the small Perspex window which led to the close, I held my finger against the buzzer shouting ‘Malcolm!’ in faux exasperation through the intercom, and after waiting for a second, the mechanism clicked, and a flood of warm air rushed over me. Detailed ceramic tiles lined the walls and ceiling of the close, surrounding me in a kaleidoscope of tired grandeur. An imposing Victorian handrail ended in an extravagant flourish, as the thick granite stairs, trailed upwards toward the lavishly detailed stain glass window at the back of the building, through which, the weak yellow glow of streetlamps outside gently penetrated. Suddenly breaking the silence, the door to the first floor flat swung open, and Malcolm hung in the doorway, loose-fitting pyjama bottoms clung desperately to his waist, while an oversized visit Canada T-shirt, dwarfed his upper half. His pale sullen skin and huge green eyes reflected like a cat in the dim half-light. ‘Alright mate,’ he said, letting the words curl and drop softly from his mouth, he held out three boxes in his hand. Their familiar Eastern European font was a sight for sore eyes. ‘Come on now, only Slovakia’s best, for a most discerning customer like yourself.’ Malcolm said, his eyes dancing with a menacing glint upon seeing my barely contained desperation. ‘Sir you spoil me’ I shot back smiling, trying to recover some dignity as I pulled the crumpled notes from my pocket. ‘Always a pleasure' Malcolm purred while slipping the boxes to me, as he wrenched the fifty-pound note from my outstretched hand. ‘Alright Mr. Monopoly, fuck am I supposed to do with this.' He paused dramatically glaring at me. Before muttering 'well thanks I guess’ as he looked me up and down one last time, before smiling and slamming the door so hard, that the cheap wood board shook violently in its frame. The second the door was closed, I fell upon the packets like a starving animal, popping Three of the pills out of their packaging, at once. Desperately I tried to push them to the back of my throat, cursing myself for not bringing anything to help them down. Before coughing violently, as I nearly choked myself. Eventually, coughing triumphantly, I pulled open the heavy oak door and stepped out once again into the cool black evening air. Standing on the top step, I waited impatiently, turning in anticipation, before the familiar waves of relaxation washed over me. Like sliding into a hot bath on a cold winter’s night, I yawned allowing myself to feel my lungs flood with air, and as I sat on the cold stone stairs, relishing the breeze of another summer’s night, I know. At that moment, I know, know I’m not an addict, know that I'm brave, and know that I can be loved, for a perfect second, all that delusion is enough.