God, what am I doing? This is such a bad idea. Like the past has a weight, a texture, and it’s all him.
I find myself still wanting to feel his arms around me. I’ve popped a tyre before on the glass that’s scattered around here, and my fingers are too frozen to be fiddling around with fixing on a spare.Īs soon as we make it into the skatepark’s tiny car park, Kim hops off the bike. I take my time cycling down the rough track to the park. Maybe he needs to let off a bit of steam too. Wherever his life is at, ramming a four-by-four into a warehouse complex and then being arrested has got to build up some serious tension. The sharp-eyed way she watched him as he gave a false name to the police. I think again of the girl with the green braids.
It’s almost Christmas Day-surely, he’s got somewhere else to be, other people to be with? People far more important to him than me.
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