'WalkIng down KamIn street on a Whitday afternoon and it just gets hotter and hotter. This road is Drevnigrad's spine and today it feels fit to buckle. Jarveys squabble and beg for water and get under everyone's feet. The feathers on my mourning shawl start to wilt. I need a cigarette and I need a cigarette and I hold my fingers to my mouth and pretend I have a cigarette...' (Publication abstract)