"Wow!" Nin exclaimed with her first step off the train, "You think Morrissey has stood here?"
     "Yes, Nin. I believe that Morrissey has stood in every last part of Manchester-- now would you please step aside so other people could vacate the train?"


     Nin made two long swift strides forward to move clear of the crowd. I averted my eyes from the other travellers lest I received scornful looks.
     I set the luggage on the ground and swallowed up air like it were drink. Barely home and already I was suffering a paralyzing giddiness.
     "Lee, you're shaking."
     "What?" I looked up at Nin.
     "You're shaking."
     "Am I?" I looked down at my hands. I couldn't distinguish between whether they were trembling or if I was dizzy.
     "I need a cigarette, that's all," I grabbed the bags and made for the exit.
     "When was the last time you ate something?"
     "This morning."
     "What did you eat?" Nin hurried to keep up. I was certain that I was only walking but to match me she appeared to be at a slow jog.
     "Toast."
     "No, you didn't."
     "Yes I...," I could only recall the bite of burnt crust, "No, I guess I haven't."
     "What did you eat before the toast we had last night?"
     "I had... toast; for breakfast."
     "So in the past two days you've had four pieces of toast, at least three pints of beer and a bottle of whisky?"
     "Don't forget the coffee."
     "How could I?"
     "I am charming."
     "Terribly... I think you should eat something."


     I stopped on the pavement and fumbled for the cigarettes I'd purchased before we had got coffee. I'd expected to feel relief upon lighting it but was disappointed to find that it was still just a habit.


     "We can eat after we get to my parents."
     "I should've gotten you that cake in London."
     "If you're right about mourners there's a proper buffet waiting for us."
     Nin had the look of a wide-eyed tourist.
     "If I had thought that there was a point to bringing a camera-- I would've so that I could cherish the memories. He really did put the M in Manchester, you know."
     "Don't be absurd. What is it with Americans and Morrissey? It's never, 'Oh Manchester! The Fall! Joy Division! All of Factory Records... bloody football which I could honestly give a fuck about...' no, for some reason it's always Morrissey like the man were Christ... nevermind that he was an immigrant and you could just as well go to Ireland, step off the train and say 'Ooooo Morrissey...'."
     "You sound like a stand up comic...'what's the deal with' and 'have you ever noticed how' with all of your cultural observations about Americans... only you aren't funny."
     I stubbed out my cigarette.
     "We'll blame the malnutrition, then?"
     "You'd like to get off that easy but you're wrong. Morrissey's parents were Irish immigrants. Morrissey, himself, was born in England..."
     "How on Earth did I get stuck with you?"
     "We met in a bar..."
     "I need a drink."
     "You have to be a Smiths fan?"
     "Love 'em."
     "Then what's the problem?"
     I puffed up my cheeks and made the slow release of breath from the corner of my mouth. When half the breath had been expelled; I said her name.
     "Nin."
     "Lee."
     I continued until the breath was gone and I was on the take for another.
     "I can't go home," I admitted.
     She appeared confused and then momentarily frightened.
     "But this is your home... right?"
     "The post code is correct but I mean my parents. I'm not ready to go to my parents just yet. I want more time."
     "I'm not sure how these things work, Lee, but I don't know that you have time."
     "I'm not talking about going back to London-- just chips with cheese and a half-- a place to sit down; get bearings."
     "I'm no one to deny you your bearings and at this point, I would only encourage food."
     "Well it's sorted. I'll buy you a drink... and myself some time."