Oh - this isn't like the inside of a church, it's more like a - a vestibule or something - the front of a small theatre. That Weight Watchers poster. The floor looks in need of a sweep. I know what it's like - it reminds me of grammar school, the lobby outside the dining hall at grammar school. Stone floor, wood panelling, doors and stairs. Smell of mince in gravy, thunderous scraping of chairlegs. Everything uncomfortable, dirty, cramped, slightly awkward, homely. I used to eat anything in those days: cold roast potatoes, lumpy mash, cubes of pickled beetroot, spam fritters oozing grease, never a twinge. Just the thought of it gives me a constriction. A heavy feeling in the middle of my chest. It's okay though - it's just psychological. Take a breath. There's nothing there, not really. I'm fine.

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