This door takes you out into the yard round the back of the Rosebay Willow Herb Cafe. It’s pretty messy out here, which is why I tend to keep the door closed most of the time. But I sometimes coming out here. More often lately. It’s the place in my mind I go to, half asleep on the sofa with the credits of some film flickering on the TV before me. And dream. Allowing words, gestures, pictures and short snaps of conversation to pass. I might linger on one. Tease it through my fingers to see if there’s a knot to untangle, releasing a scratchy red mitten or a sharp, broken piece of glass. Smarting back to a shift in time. A couple of notes reminding of a song. Some sticky tune.