“Aren’t we formed by the landscape we came from? I am a product of that earth and of the water that bubbles up from the springs. I can feel the floorboards under my feet, picture the rafters over my head, which came from the woods we played in. At night my dreams are full of the ghosts and echoes of my forebears; I am woken by their laughter and sighs. At Trelawney, I was part of a continuum, a pattern, but here in London I am nothing, no one. My tap water has been through eight other bodies, none of whom I will know or ever meet. Maybe I walk past them in the street, maybe not. I eat food grown in a country I’ll never visit. At Trelawney I had an identity. Here I am simply a statistic.”
Book:House of Trelawney