I watched a man kill himself

Louise Dean

The man lay naked on the marble of the Albert Memorial in Kensington Gardens and exposed his arsehole to the sky, his head resting over the lip of the ledge up high; quite, quite high. A dozen policemen paced beneath him, and told us, the crowd, to go home. We were not helping.


Zulu Romeo Foxtrot
Letter From Pondicherry, India