Standing smoking under the front light looking out into the night on the step of another flat share which for a while I can dare to call home wondering when I will own a place of my own where I can kick up a stink or pile up the sink, where I can strike a light, where I can curse as loud as I like, where I don't have to take myself outside and stand staring at nothing with nothing but my key and the glow of my roll-your-own for company.