“If anyone stops us we can say we got lost,” Tracey said: not sure why anyone should stop them. Or judging from the mostly empty landscape, if the...e was anyone who could. The girls seemed to have been walking for hours. The sun was still high and the girls’ feet were getting increasingly sore. “I’ve got fucking blisters on my fucking blisters!” complained Tracey. Not only their feet were suffering, but the weight of the jangling jewelry from their cunts chafed against their thighs and they were. I leaned on the pillar, next to the stairs. I buried my forehead onto my arm, exhaling deep, striving to catch my breath. A pat on my shoulder than an unfamiliar male voice said, “Getting ready for the London Marathon, mate.” The group of people he was with, chuckled at his comment. They continued, towards the direction the crowds were going.When my breathing was stable, I looked around me. You usually don’t get so many, visitors at Alexandra Palace, even on a Saturday. There must be a function. More

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