You came from the council estate, and we respected one another. One summer, when we were kids, we played football and afterwards lay on the grass. I couldn’t take my eyes off your legs. You asked me if I was a faggot. I said no. You laughed, and rolled on top of me, and I remember that sticky body. You told me you’d give me what I wanted. You never did, and we grew apart. Years later, I met you in a bar, and we agreed to meet up for a drink, but you never turned up. Then I heard you were in prison after robbing a Post Office.