Life’s dropouts punctuate the night-time street, harrowing stories repeated over and over, never making the news. Getting through tonight is more important than any tomorrow.

I never got birthday presents anyway, as mine fell on Christmas. I smile softly at the irony.

It’s not as cold as last night, but that was over: no point dwelling on it. Besides, the body went this morning. They couldn’t get its arms to bend and fit into the box so the two council workers just covered it in a blanket and carried it out to the van between them. There wasn’t a dry eye in the house. Laughter comes from the soul, and ours are black. Black as the festering pit in which we currently squatted, too cold even for fleas.

Cancer doesn’t have favourites. You can look after yourself, keep fit, eat right and yet still get struck down in your prime by this most indiscriminate of diseases. We are starting to know a lot about it, and our knowledge gets better with every passing day and with every research pound that is donated.

But what about those who are living with cancer NOW? Promises of future breakthroughs and preventative medicine are all fine and dandy but how can we make life more tolerable for those struggling to live a normal day under its dark shadow?

We all know someone, be that friends or family, who are affected by the disease. And we can all do something about it. I’m not suggesting that you sit in the saddle for ten blistering days, but a small donation would certainly help!

My aim is to make £3200, but I hope to raise much more than this over the next twelve months. I’ve never done anything like this before so setting such a high fundraising target is more than a little daunting. I feel I’ll need every day available if I’m going to reach it, and all of your help and support – whether that’s in the form of sponsorship or just encouragement.

They will not listen, although I’m certain they hear. They have eyes everywhere, yet they will not see. So well-educated, yet enlightenment eludes them.

My ears would ring from the plank they used. The blindfold they tied tightly across my eyes served only to make the images more clear. For days the sound of the torture and killing of my defenceless brothers played endlessly across my mind.

They might scrub away the mess but never the memory. I, for one, bear witness.

I may not sleep. I cannot sleep. I will not sleep.

Mercifully, I am now set free from such earthly needs.

I feel no pain from the flames, for they only touch my body.