And after I've eaten three frankfurters from a jar, that I've no idea how reached my kitchen, the intercom buzzes, and I watch my reflection in the glossy paint of the door as I pull it open, and then I catch my eye in the window of the buildings opposite, and I'm handed a T-shirt. And this is the first time I notice that its dusk, and the orange glow of the street lamps fuse the air with a hum. And the shirt reads DC 10 and has a picture of a tree, and I take it, and god I wish tomorrow would be over. And I start making plans for two years time, and I'm listening to Dizzy by Jimmy Eat World, and that's when I realise what is missing.You. You're not here. At least, not in this city.