I am a maker of lists. I make lists, often hastily scribbled notes, of what I want to write about here. Just in case, just in case I forget. I’ve been away and came upon one such list. It begins with the line ‘spitting rain’. It must have been almost two weeks ago. Was it raining when I walked? Yes, I remember now. A Sunday morning, and the rain was coming down in a fine wet mist. I had my umbrella up. Walking past the Pier Pressure nightclub there was a man standing outside talking to a young woman. Neither wore coats. I’m from the valleys, the girl was saying, I’m not posh. The man saw me walk by. It’s not raining love, he shouted. I smiled at him and kept moving. You go for it, girl, he said.
I’ve been away. It seems like forever. There is much to write about but not yet, not yet. I want to bear witness. And I will, soon. Soon. Soon.