Tower blocks are falling like the Great Leonid Meteor Shower of 1833, initiating a new approach to natural phenomena. There are wall charts in the daily papers, and we can download an app to chart their descending patterns against the turbulent sky. Everyone’s a barroom expert in structural engineering and the neo-mystical fad of architectology, and we read immediate futures in cracked concrete and asbestos. The auguries, it must be said, are less than propitious. Tomorrow will be the haruspicy of smashed glass, and the day after will be the phrenology of rubble. Then, there will come a tall, dark stranger, with a coat the colour of crows. In one hand he will hold a carbide lamp, in the other a rolled-up plan to fill the sky.
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Oz Hardwick
Picture Rupert Loydell
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