This time last year, I was preparing to leave Auckland for Fiji. This time the year before, I was preparing to leave Auckland for Sydney. This year, I am preparing to leave Heathfield for Doncaster.
I think this time last year i thought i had passed away and was to be buried in Egypt any coming day, while in fact i was simply in south-east London. I could sit upright sometimes to glance at some windowed sandless mean streets, camels with human faces and charity clobber waiting for lights to order them on or stop or pause in the breeze while metal boxes flew dangerously past. Evry moment telling and bamboozling.
I am told some friends came to visit and when they did i sat up too eagerly and banged my broken skull on the wall behind. I had no words to explain the scare, but the look on my face said enough. I didn't really recognise the ones who came to check me out, but they held no weapons so i presumed them unthreatening.