I am in Newcastle where, implausibly, the sun has been shining for three days straight.
A woman with bruises all over her face was walking next to me for something like sixty seconds last night. Very difficult minute. Very hard life. And the Christian churches continue to locate personal sin within the domain of consenting sex.
I had forgotten this country’s dismal food, its vile coffee, the old smell of damp semi-cleanliness in its rented rooms. I had also forgotten how much I sometimes love this country.