The shops in High Street still have their metal grilles down, blank-eyed and sleeping. My name is scrawled across them all. I'm outside Ajay's newsagent's. I'm on the expensive shutters of the health food store. I'm massive on Handie's furniture shop, King's Chicken Joint and the Barbecue Cafe. I thread the pavement outside the bank and all the way to Mothercare. I've possessed the road and am a glistening circle at the roundabout.

No, really. I free you.' I don't want to be free.

I didn't understand that when you make love, you actually do MAKE love. Stir things. Affect each other. The breath that escapes from me is dazzled. He breathes it in with a gasp.

We make patterns, we share moments. Sometimes, I think I'm the only one to see it.

Don't think you have to be good because you're the only one left. Be as bad as you like.

All I know is that I have two choices – stay wrapped in blankets and get on with dying, or get the list back together and get on with living.

I'm me and you're you, and all of them out there are them. And we're all so different and equally unimportant.