Friday Night at Forty-Five

I’m dropping my wife at work. It’s 7 am, and drum and bass is blasting in my car.

(Photo: Vlada Karpovich)

It’s too early for that shit, she says, turning off the stereo.

You know, for some people, it’s still nighttime, I reason. The young people, that is.

I realise it’s 7 am Friday morning, and that means —