The Weightless World

Ess Ess. It was only round March or April last year that it stopped being a quirk and started being a sign. First it increased in frequency: he’d be sitting there talking to you, his nose constantly jigging up and down, his top lip sliding continually over his teeth. Then it increased in severity. At his worst he looked as if he were tryi

keep wailing at her, “How can this be?” And she tells them, “A slum is a slum. Life is hard.” I can just imagine her saying that. “Life is hard.” Not much nonsense in Asha.’ He chuckles. It’s the sort of chuckle that makes people who don’t know what he does for a living think Ess must be an entertainer, a late-night DJ, a croon-the-hits club singer. Then he straightens, cla