“Walk outside the gaff–emptiness in the city centre. Suffocating grey sky, high pressure. Like a breath being held. The odd car, a Deliveroo cyclist, a seagull poking at a refuse sack of a private waste-disposal company. A face mask lies discarded in the gutter. A newly built student-hotel, words tattooed all over the facade, sits and bides its time. Lights are on but nobody's home. ”

“Will it ever end? We are holding onto the balloon, and we keep ascending. If we keep holding on, we are surely doomed. And if we let go?”