The strangest, coolest think keeps happening since my accident last Saturday. Whenever I’m out and about, people keep telling me that they heard what happened and asking me how I am, even when I don’t know them. Earlier this afternoon, for instance, I was about to go through Maryon Park when the park keeper there stopped me. He said he recognised me, asked how I was, and told me that if I had any more trouble from these kids I could tell him. I found it quite humbling really: it made me feel part of a community, one which is aware of what is going on, and which looks after it’s members. Yet things like that have happened again and again over the past week. The way in which people seem to care about what happened to me last Saturday reassures me. London is not just a collection of dispassionate individuals one often takes it to be; as big as it is, sometimes it feels like one vast village.