I was never going to stay. I have spent too long here, eating my own flesh like Ugolino. A year on, I know where the postern gate is, I can come and go, and stay away for longer. Enough of that. From Hell, the path goes uphill through Purgatory.
This is the end of the Slough, at least for now. I might scrawl graffiti on the walls on my visits, but I’m checking out of my room. It’s not worth keeping a room here, and I can’t sub-let it for much – there aren’t so many people keen to come and stay who don’t have a place already.
So I’ll hand in my key, and try to find somewhere else to go.