As my footsteps melt into the pavement of the city, I walk through all of the vile nausea that builds up. In the metro, I can feel it in my chest fighting to climb up my throat. I bolt outside, to the open air.

I said hello and I mistook your goodbye for a greeting. I sit with a donkey called James under the night sky and goats that pick out and eat the flowers from my hair. Hello, goodbye.

I dreamt of this place in rosy pinks, powdery violets and yellow. I photographed two pensioner ladies who sat on wooden seats, eating their warm lunch. I walked alone for the whole dream, I walked alone.

I stood and stared at the lights hanging from the roof of the barn and I counted every step in every garden that surrounded me. I sat in a dress made of creamy white and pale blue. I swept pearlescent eyeshadow across my lids.