Alexandra Jade

The Little Things

It's June 2003. I'm walking through the crowded outskirts of Paris. It is not glamourous. We'd spent so long on a dingy coach to reach France, that I'd actually hallucinated. My schoolmates had bought lighters at a service station and every time I nodded off on during our journey, I kept hearing the click of a lighter, as though someone was trying to set my hair on fire.