Chapter EighteenThe sun has not yet risen when Felix slips away from Miserly Road. He quietly packs up what little he brought with him before wandering back into the city. When he reaches the Itchen Bridge, he walks to one side and stares out over the water. Against the vast sprawl of the city, the sea, even the bridge on which he stands, he feels tiny; that speck of silt from so long ago, swirling in the maelstrom. He notices ships in the distance, brooding behemoths barely visible as shadows in the mist. He notices other things, too, which he might have preferred not to see; small slits in the sky, some gliding smoothly, others bobbing as they grow larger, feathered wings beating furiously as they bear down on the bridge.
His flat is as he left it one week ago. In the kitchen he finds a
