If you meet me, have some sympathy 1

I felt the pavement wet and cold on my ear as the dull grey day yawned itself into being. Head throbbing and stomach clenching, I heaved myself up and staggered along the street towards the river, trying to remember how my legs were supposed to work. Leaning over the wall above the brown swirling water, I waited for my retching to subside and then tried to get my bearings. There wasn’t much time.

The city had changed a lot. At least one of the bridges had been replaced and the old warehouses that had once lined the opposite bank were now spruced up apartments. Thankfully the river was the same and I welcomed its familiar muddy smell.

I looked around cautiously, aware that they would soon be searching for me, but it was still early and few people were up and about. An old lady sifted through some rubbish a little way along the embankment.

Was she the target? It seemed unlikely.

I pulled up my collar against the cold and glanced back up the street behind me. The crack through which I had emerged into this world snapped shut with a puff of smoke and a whiff of sulphur.