The sky outside is beginning to look like guilt.

I couldn't sleep.
It got to about 4am and I decided to go for a walk. I must have just missed the sunrise.

It still feels somewhat exciting, getting dressed to go for a secret early morning walk. As if I was sneaking out of my parents house.
But I'm not.

I live on my own now and no one will notice I'm not here.
There's not even any need to be quiet.
No one to wake.

The air feels new; untouched. Impossibly quiet.

I think about the making of 28 days later. When Danny Boyle closed off specific areas of London between the hours of 4 and 5am to film deserted, apocalyptic scenes.

Maybe everyone is dead?

It starts to feel more like a real day.
Cars becoming more frequent.

I find £20 on the ground on the way home.


Now I can buy milk.