There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.

Actual born-Londoners aren't LARPing like this, they sold their shite family home for a million pounds and moved to Malaga years ago. They have their culture and they've taken it elsewhere.

I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.

"Put a blanket."

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.