In a warehouse, two sports cars straight out of the fast and the furious. One was purple with the silver surfer on the side. People trying to jump into the cars, i open the door and slide in. Racing and drifting in the warehouse to gangster music; the cars disappear and I'm dancing, people are watching, I walk around the partition then come back again, dancing again. I have to leave, to go to the rival gang hut at the other end of the beach. I step outside to a heavy storm, it is dark, it is too much. I put my converse on, my feet go straight through the bottom. I call someone over, tell them I have to leave for something important. Walk along the promenade in the storm, feet get wet, people trying to control the raging tides, lots of drama. The beach is busy. I reach the other end of the beach, it is light and the storm is gone, looking back I see the black clouds jumping down on to the sea violently, there are tornadoes. But it is a distant place now. I am on the balcony of a cafe - it is Frankenstein cafe, attached to the mary shelley hotel. "You don't want the noodles do you? She had everything, but you're not bothered are you?" Well, yes, I am actually, I thought to myself. "Why are things in beach shops so expensive? 35 pounds for a homemade ankle bracelet?" I suppose they have to make a living, I said. And besides, people accept it, so the prices will never drop. Next I am in a small room, Death On The Stairs is playing. I put my shoes on and go to climb out of the window, but the roof is too far to reach, I don't think I will make it.
