Day One. I was given a choice. Which desk would I like? There was only one desk that faced a window – the triangular window that I had drawn without thinking. There was a view of an old flint wall and a building that had once been a chapel. Naturally, I chose this desk and watched the comings and goings from the chapel. There was a whole family living there. The man strolled out at sometime around ten in the morning wearing denims, his shirt always hanging out in the style of old men who still want to look cool. His wife had black hair and was always in a hurry, scurrying out the gate carrying a jute bag. Various teenage sons came and went. Sometimes I heard their voices. They were all well-spoken. The man would come back an hour or so later with a folded newspaper. Unlike his wife, he was never in a hurry. Everyday, at some stage, a van would arrive delivering some new toy. A wide-screen TV, a tree, boxes of wine, a mountain bike. A grocery van would also come by once a week. Bags and boxes of food. I wondered how this man managed to spend so much time at home. How come every day was like Christmas. Sometimes a man in a pinstripe suit would call. He was always smoking the biggest cigars I had ever seen. Meanwhile, I continued to build my empire. I was feeling pretty pleased with myself having managed, so I thought, to have escaped them all at last. How wrong can you be?