Angie considered he had weathered a miserable life as a child, with it looking like adulthood would be no better. He never liked the circus. He detested living in a caravan, even though his mum kept it nice, in an ultra-Japanese way. He would be chastised for walking on the floor pebbles his mum raked into swirly patterns every day. Other people had carpet. His mum had set a trapeze-like swing into the ceiling so he did not disturb the thoughtful and reflective patterns on the floor. But, Angie was shite on the indoor domestic swing also and many times fell off, ruining the pebble patterns and, one time, he had careered into the bonsai cherry tree, breaking off several branches.
Although his mother had been loving and supportive, especially the few times she had managed to catch him off t
