“More than anything, he wanted to open the window and jump out. He didn't want to hit the ground, he didn't want to roam or walk on those grotty, grimy, secretive streets. Not anymore. He wanted to jump out of the window and fly. It was so unfair. Being chained down here, with all the dustbin lorries and bin bags and dog muck and Costa cups. The birds got to fly away from it all. They came down, hopped about, and then took off when it all got too much. Found a tree. Or a mountain, or a river. Kept going. Higher and higher, further and further away. And singing, all the time, they were singing, and that was because they were free.”