Well, sometimes it doesn’t seem so bad. After all, there is no rush hour these days. There is no idiot TV and there is a blessed freedom from arseholes mouthing their opinions and dickheads telling you what they think.
Best of all, though, there are no politicians.
Worst of all there are no women in their summer clothes sunning themselves in the parks. Not that there are any parks, though, come to that. Well, not as they used to be. Now, what were once parks are wildernesses in the heart of the cities, filled with all manner of wild animals, including some like the packs of dogs that were once tame. There are some too, I’ve seen, that must have escaped the zoos, or even illegal private collections.
Why else would there be a pride of lions in the heart of Birmingham?
Then there are the creatures that were once human. Those are the scariest of all. There is something terrifying about seeing them; half-human, half-beast, scurrying through these overgrown concrete wastelands, stuck somewhere between the human and the inhuman. Beasts hunting in squabbling enraged packs that kill without distinction, or even awareness, but with all the human tactical ability and finesse that allows them to set traps, ambushes and to attack with co-ordinated overwhelming force.
That is why those of us, the few that we are, who still regard ourselves as human, have left the cities far behind. Instead, we found a way of living here deep in the hidden countryside where we can pretend to one another – and, sometimes, even to ourselves – that we have made a new home.