Wednesday, January 12, 2005
Over here, a "torch" is what you would call a "flashlight"...
We were drunk, you see.
Jim had hosted a party at his place, a small farm half an hour out of town. In the middle of the house paddock eight or so of us had a bonfire, ate, and drank.
Fuck, did we ever drink. Daniel, known to his friends as Skupp, spent some time climbing trees and claiming he was a possum.
We were out in the country, so naturally when night fell and the embers of the fire died down, it got very dark. As I recall, there was no moon that night, either. We had one torch between us, a chunky, rugged Eveready Dolphin.
I don't remember how it began. All I know is that the guy with the torch ran away into the darkness and we chased him. Whenever somebody got close, he shone the torch in his pursuer's eyes to dazzle him, then changed directions. Eventually he was caught. All the pursuers tackled him to the ground, a mound of drunken bodies, all of us scrambling for the torch. Somebody got hold of it, and they ran. The rest of us dusted ourselves off and gave chase.
I don't know how long this went on - snatching the torch, running, shining it in pursuers' eyes to escape, then being caught and tackled.
All I know is that this weird spontaneous game appeared out of nowhere, and in the years that followed never repeated itself, which is a pity, because as stupid and simple as it was, it was really fun.
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