My online friend Sofie and I were in London. She suggested going to somewhere called “Alice’s Market” even though it was expensive to get in. We were outside a tube station that was only on the District Line; she insisted that we walked on to one that dealt with others. But Alice’s Market is on the District Line, I thought, before realising it was a different branch of it.
Then I was with my family, in our Rangerover, at the top of my old school’s drive . . . except my school was Eliot College (the part of UKC where I reside), and we were still in London and trying to travel around. In order to do so, we had to lend the car to other people. This happened a number of times, but when three business men got in, I was suddenly struck by how revolting having to do this was.
The three business men did something that damaged the car, and the college caught fire. My brother was really angry, although he tried to control his rage.
I got a phonecall from my friend Ibid. She asked me whether I wanted to see “O Brother Where Art Thou?” at the cinema that night. I wasn’t too keen, but I said maybe. “Ok,” she said, “I’ll come round just before eight.”
“If Eliot College hasn’t burnt down by then,” I said.
