Sunday, 29 January 2012
Tuesday, 24 January 2012
Thursday, 5 January 2012
I knock on the door. My knuckles against the varnish is the most contact I have had all day with anything that does not belong to me.
"Is Luke there?" I say.
Luke's daughter is topless apart from a sash she has made from bin liners. She performs some kind of ritualistic dance while leaning on the door to keep it open. It looks like she has oil on her forehead.