September 1888 — Evergardens

Don Juan had no idea where he was. He knew it was very late at night, which wasn't helping him locate himself at all; there was no daylight and very few lights turned on indoors, which made it hard to find anything he recognized. He'd started the night at a party, one he'd attended with friends rather than his family. He was always a little freer when his family wasn't around to see and scold — not that he tempered his behavior much for their sake, but there was a difference. So he'd had a little more to drink tonight, been a little more gregarious, lost his coat with alarming speed, and then ended up indulging in some party potions with a description that had in hindsight been a touch too vague. And then presumably quite a bit of things had happened, and he had ended up here — wherever here was. His vision was returning to normal but was still occasionally doubled, and coupled with the drink it made it impossible to walk a straight line. Someone had just asked whether he needed help. An excellent question.

"I think what I need is a cigarette," he decided. He reached for his cigarette case and it took a second too long to realize the reason he wasn't finding it in his pocket was because that pocket didn't exist — he wasn't wearing his suit jacket. At least he still had a shirt. Presumably also trousers and shoes, but he hadn't gotten around to checking. Since he had misplaced his cigarette case and all its contents, he instead turned his attention to the person who'd asked if he needed help. "Do you have one? Or — fare for the Knight Bus, maybe."

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