Jamie McKendrick, 1 June 2023
It was rather fun, being lost like this.The roofs our floor, the palms our ventilators.The stag’s antlers serving as a cloudrack.
North was south, being lost like this.It was rather fun to thread the citywith only the sodium glow to steer by.
Fun to think we would never be found.The alleys smelled of resin and leather.The small square with its switched-off fountain
was carding the winds...