Dodging the perpetual spit lying on the communal stairs and landing, before weaving across the gridlocked road through traffic parked on the crossing at a pedestrian green light. Passing by and then looking back at a driver so engrossed in her phone (as the car veers towards the kerb) that she fails to even notice. Moving on into a cloud of illegal exhaust emissions. Further east, a near miss with a Porsche driver who cuts in front of me, his white phone gripped in one hand (the thing that really matters). The shared space, littered with metaphorical landmines. It’s all about ‘me’. Until you make unwitting contact with someone else perhaps?