Sometimes you like to walk beside the river. Of course, it starts off as nothing special; you go down by the church, past the sports centre and the barred gates of the car park, and then, as you reach the river, you realise the area immediately to your right has been boarded off, and they are building houses behind it. So sometimes you go this way, sometimes that; there is more than one way to walk along a river, and pink down – yes, down – descends from the skies like candy floss, a sure sign you are doing something remarkable. Then you come back past the building site, past the car park, past the sports centre, past the church. You climb back up the steps onto the street; you cross a busy road; you eat a sandwich, drink some beer, and, periodically, you die.