I am walking with a huge group of people, many familiar to me from my past and present. I realise I have left my bag somewhere so have to go back. Halfway along Holland Park Walk exquisite food has been put out for the walkers. I drink from a jamjar of water flavoured with a sprig of white lilac. The flowers melt in my mouth cold and sweet. A bag just like mine is lying in the corner filled with bits of rubbish.
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