My codename is ‘The Spinster’.
I drift in and out of consciousness.
A lone seagull cries in the dark sounding like two empty milk bottles.
I dream of half-plastered attics with fresh beds and linen sheets.
I’m looking for a place to practice the trumpet and the only person up here is Khan smoking a cigarette.
Khan tells me not to be too noisy as he is about to go to sleep.
But downstairs, it’s all action..