Clearly it is God's will to place me in such a predicament," declared Philias loudly to a procession of stunned passers-by, "So God can jolly well point me towards salvation.

Please stop shaking your rain water in my direction. What next? Are you going to come over here, cock your leg and urinate upon my person?

The return of the rain, beating out time on London's rooftops and pavements. Early morning Zombies sheltering beneath copies of the Standard whilst others ran screaming for cover in doorways because water from the heavens is holy and melts the undead.

I am not an outsider. I am an insider who discovered that everyone else had gone out.