Exactly the same as yesterday, except a fourth kind friend.

And I went out in the evening to the Old Fire Station to see an extraordinary play, Sold. It was the life story of Mary Prince who was born into slavery in Bermuda in 1785 and who went on to become a British abolitionist. Her autobiography, published in 1831, was the first account of the life of a black woman to be published in the UK and three printings in its first year sold out. But she isn't heard of again after 1833.

The writer, performer and co-producer, Amantha Edmead, gave an astonishing performance of movement and sound, including turning a  blanket into a baby and her throat into its ceaseless crying - so convincing that my maternal instincts squirmed. I learnt from the discussion afterwards that the play started life as a one-person performance but she and her fellow producer/director, Euton Daley, decided it needed an extra element. The drummer/singer/chanter who is now involved, Angie Amra Anderson, seemed to me to be a meld of an African ancestor (using Yoruba and Gã) and a Greek chorus. I loved the way the two very different performances of the two actors flowed into and out of each other. I've never seen anything quite like it.

It's a Kuumba Nia Arts production and it's been touring to small venues for three years. In July it'll be in Kent, Chicago and at WOMAD. Look out for it.

Shame about my only photo.

I slept in my rented attic room for the first time.