I walk the Sussex Downsland. Leonard Cohen sings “Hineini, Hineini”. I stop. I look to the path behind me. I look ahead. I cry out loud. And then I cry some more. Not long ago and not far away. I remember. Every day. In each stitch a requiem. I cry for the animals burnt in the blaze of an arsonists flames. And one last time, before Virginia Woolf’s house comes in to view, I stand in the empty path and cry for humanity. I look at the map of the world showing which countries have vaccinated most of their people against Covid, and it looks like an essay in 18th Century colonial imperialism. “Who the fuck are you to be so privileged?” Mea Culpa,2021