I went to the gym and then against my better judgement bought a packet of cigarettes and sat outside a cafe with a coffee and a book, wishing the day away as the mid afternoon crowds rushed by. After ten minutes the thoughts swirling around in the back of my head became too much and I marked the page I was reading before setting the book down, finding that I had tried to read the same paragraph over and over and not taken in a single word. A man sat at the table next to me, grey strands of hair peppering his beard and sunglasses shielding his eyes against the sun, an odd contrast to the oversized woolen coat hanging from his shoulders. A transistor radio was balanced on its edge on the table in front of him, a dated piece of technology with its antenna outstretched to catch the tinny little voices it was spurting out in resigned gasps of static, the advice segment of a chat show where the listener could phone in and in a teary, hushed tone, explain how their lives weren’t quite matching up with the ideals they had set in place in their youth.