you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak
I'm sat out the front of a cafe in Hatton Garden. I've just eaten a brie and bacon panini, and I'm rolling a cigarette. Feeling very London. An old man comes up to me and asks for a roll-up. I oblige.
Like the tide, it comes in and it washes over the beach. It's beautiful. But
like the tide it goes out, sometimes it goes out further than it ever has, it
recedes back across the beach and further out beyond the horizon. The bare
seabed opens up in front of you and all you can do is look at it.
