Michael peers over my shoulder. “What is that you’re doing?”
“Haswell invited me to ‘let my imagination fly’. I’m doing just that.”
“Really?” He sits beside me, looking over the sketches I have laid out on the table. “Do you mind?”
“Not at all.”
He riffles through the sheets. “What’s this one?”
“That is a library come public information and internet centre.”
He nods and pulls out another. “And this?”
“That is my imagined ‘Museum of the Sciences’.”
“And this?”
“That is a sports arena and athletics track.”
He works his way through the stack of sheets, shaking his head and muttering to himself. I begin to worry.
Am I f*****g this up? Going too far…?
“Don’t you like them?”
He scratches his chin, drawing in a kind of inside-out-whistle. “James, I think they’re fantastic. It looks
