st. crispin | red fences and red tape

The woodland stepped aside, giving us our first view of St. Crispin, its red bricks looking dull and drab in the dying light of this January day.

But our approach to the hospital was halted by fences. Not a usual problem, and these temporary affairs only offered a modicum of protection for the buildings. But the building work made my heart sink. I liked our asylums to be pristine and untouched; all this mud and machinery was indicative of activity and change.