I like to go out and read in cafes. The background noice helps me concentrate, I like coffee, and it is at times nice to be surrounded by people that you do not know. However, all of a sudden I find myself slightly uncomfortable holding my book in this context. Also my shoes, my Doctor Martins that are entering their seventh year (and before this pair I had the exact same ones, which lasted for four to five years, love them), make me a bit nervous. What if people will think t

Once I was browsing the internet I came across this image. It is from a New York Times dispatch from 2014. It is a handwritten note scrawled on a torn cigarette case by a refugee found in Pozzalo, a small coastal town in Sicily where hundreds of refugees land frequently. The letter, The New York Times reports, is written in Egyptian dialect. Translated into English:   I wanted to be with you. Don’t you dare forget me. I love you very much. My wish is for you not to forget me