Dan never explained why he woke up so early, or what it was that made him leave the flat. Folk wouldn’t get it if he told them, so he didn’t tell. He’d just head off out there and be ready for the pre-light, the dayshine you could see at around 4 a.m.—something about 4 at this point in the year—he’d be under that, right inside it. Daily. Without fail. Put on the soft shoes, jersey, tracky bottoms, and the baseball cap and then off down the stairs to his street. His territory. Best to think of it as his—this way it was welcoming and OK.
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