It has been a while. I have been away.

I return to a very cold England. The sky is low and grey. The wind carries specks of rain that prick at your face.

I went to the supermarket. Everything is so neatly bagged and polished. And expensive.

It's strange coming back. For this short while, before my blood thickens to take the cold again, there is a sense that I am rattling around in the place I was before. My shape's a bit different, my mind's a little bit somewhere else.