The correlation’s just too strong now: another huge fire down the road, to go with the Great Fire of Deptford and the Surrey Quays Geyser. It must be my brain doing this. With every last erg of energy and enthusiasm sucked out of me by the Black Dog, basic first-year physics principles suggest it must have gone somewhere; my own hope and potential is causing this stuff, all my lifeforce gurgling out of my broken brain-meat in search of somewhere better. I’m sleeping under the stars tonight, in the cool peace of Greenwich Park. Four walls and a roof aren’t what I need any more.