The fourth wall of that apartment was sky — straight out west to infinity. At sunset, the colours were delirious: orange, magenta, fuchsia, red, burning in the west. And then, through dusk, subtle mauve and bruises. In the distance the planes circling to land at Heathrow blinked in the beautiful damask clouds. When night fell, the sky was prussian blue. It was a magical view, full of possibilities and dreams. To the right were the towers, some close to, and others smaller, a mile or so away. During the day, these were boring blocks of brown, but when the deep blue came, they turned into glittering constellations. […]
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