21
London, England. 11.18am
The sun was already high. Michael Jensen was trying to keep cool in his bulky coat as he sat in the shade of a chestnut tree on a tiny grassy patch opposite Finsbury Park mosque. It fitted easily into the suburban landscape with its red brick exterior and minimal white minaret. There seemed to be some kind of festival and he could hear the sound of chanted prayers as large groups of people entered as he watched.
The school holidays meant there were many children and young people in the crowd, some obviously dragged there by their parents but others hurried ahead, keen in their youthful devotion. Michael felt a jealousy as he watched the banter between friends and close knit families going in together for he had never felt part of such a community, even as a y
