( February 4th, 1968. )

Chicago is nothing like the cities Gilderoy knows by heart. It has none of London's gloomy, old charm; its buildings are dizzyingly higher and far more crowded than those in Glasgow; and the faint traces of home-Belfast-lead only to a handful of Irish-American pubs.

Worst of all, there's nothing magical about it.

(Nothing he's yet discovered, anyway ( Read more... )

( An arrival. )