In my vision I’d seen my angel lovingly murder Tao. I’d seen the political slogans written in blood on the wall. I’d heard the woman's laughter and although I had a clear recollection of looking around me, I had seen no one else. Yet all the evidence pointed to the dead man's brother being present. Was there lurking deep inside my subconscious a love that dare not speak it’s name? Ultimately would I find it more erotic to have my life snuffed out by a man? Was this why I bought and hung on the walls of my London apartment Xiyadie's paper cuttings depicting tormented gay desire. Pictures I didn’t dare hang on the walls of my properties back home!
At the foot of my bed stood the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. She was tall with a face like Lu Xun and the brow of a banana tree ghost . She had the sweetest pair of eyes I’d ever seen. But there was something in them I didn’t understand. It wasn’t just bewilderment, it was as if she looked out at the world from inside a dream. The woman regarded me with a curious sort of wonderment and my manhood stood to attention beneath her delirious gaze. “Where am I? Have we met before?” “I don't think so. But don't be alarmed. You are quite safe. You must have been sleepwalking." “But where did I drift in here from?” “That is a question you will have to answer. Do you live in The Denizen?” “The Denizen?” "We’re in The Denizen!” I cried. “This is a luxury apartment block in the beating heart of the ancient ward of Cripplegate, just outside the original walls of the City of London, an area historically notorious for its cony catchers, bawdy houses and molly houses.”