The roof top bar in Shoreditch ...

Watching the creatives smoking dizzying habanos, I sipped my Peroni - 

I recalled the first time I'd inhaled a cigarette - I'd smoked, off and on, for a number of years - when my heart was broken, I'd sat in my car, wreathed in the smoke of Gitanes - 

I was lounging in a roof top bar - below me were the streets of Shoreditch - beautiful creatures rode bicycles - the foyers of PR agencies showcased feverish street art - mysterious installations filled gallery spaces - 

Sophie and Paul were showing me aspects of their world -

The habanos available were listed after the cognacs, along with their smoking times - 

I suddenly wished that I was wearing black - 

There was a wood burning stove in the centre of the roof terrace -  

They give you rugs here, in the winter Paul said - 

I watched glowing clouds move across the London skies - I finished my Peroni -