"I remember, in no particular order:
- A shiny inner wrist;
- Steam rising from a wet sink as a hot frying pan is laughingly tossed into it;
- gouts of sperm circling a plughole, before being sluiced down the full length of a tall house;
- a river rushing nonsensically upstream, its wave an wash lit by half a dozen chasing torchbeams;
- another river, broad and grey, the direction of tis flow disguised by a stiff wind exciting the surface;
- bathwater long gone cold behind a locked door.
This isn´t something I actually saw, but what you end up remembering isn´t always the same as what you have witnessed."
The Sense of an Ending. Julien Barnes.