Urban Diary

Inside London’s most famous brutalist building

The whole place to themselves (photo by author)

I come out onto the picnic garden, faced with a Carol Rumens late winter noon, “the sky, blue-black as taxis.” A couple sits nearby. Correction. He is sitting, she is standing. They’re the only ones around. Her outfit reminds me of early noughties nu-metal when Limp Bizkit used to tell us to “keep rollin’, rollin’, rollin’, rollin’.”