One afternoon I sold my flat. I unplanted myself, like a bean. I closed the front door, gathered up my heartbreak splinters and bought a plane ticket and just like at a crowded, sweaty party where everyone is absorbed in their own separate conversation London did not notice me leaving.

Two days later I was in Tamanrasset in a remote region of Algeria. I saw red light behind my eyelids and felt the crunch of rubber on dust. I breathed it in, this universe of yellow, like a newborn.