So I decided to fly solo.My stomping ground is a small industrial town in Northern England. It was 2009 and the recession was in full swing which mean... Friday nights where not what they once were. The pubs, bars and clubs were not in good health. A lot had closed. Even the ones that we're open only played host to small crowds. It was the kinda place Bruce Springsteen likes to sing about.I stepped into a pub called the Marketplace It was one of the few that still looked good and had a bit of. "Who are you?" she asked. Her voice had shifted from terror to a pleadingdesperation. "What did he mean when he said that you were a man?" Far as I know, I was born one," I answered. "As for what I am now - I'mnot sure. How about you? You got a name?"Bardo was stumbling around like a blind man, feeling for the skin of theMachine. His hand went right through it, but he didn't enter the cabin withus. From our perspective, his hand disappeared when it shared space withthe Machine, and reappeared. More

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