As the ice melts, the sky swells with memories the shape of childish hands. Momentarily, I’m blinded by innocent love and the need to be held in my mother’s arms. Then comes the spinning world, and the necrotic noise from a crowd of baying mouths hungry for the air in my lungs. People come and go out of the supermarket on the corner. I loiter, smoking cigarettes and kicking my feet. Among dizzy spells and the smell of burnt toast, kids chat shit then flee. They run into the road and disappear li...