I’m moving somewhere that maybe doesn’t even exist. It has to be sunny, but not sunny in a way that’ll make me squint and sprout more crow’s feet.
The sky needs to be a deep blue – every day.
I’d prefer there to be lots of people, but no need to make eye contact – and no talking so loudly that you can’t help but catch every detail of a stranger’s conversation, feeling embarrassment for them.
I’m moving there because I dislike the grey, damp everything of London. Hearing conversations. Feeling as colourless as the sky. The strange cold sweat you get when quick-walking from A to B, on pavements alongside buses and taxis.
I resent the feeling of resentment I get when someone accidentally brushes past with too much vigour. I’m sure I must do it too.