I haven’t got the hang quite yet of political protest. The local hospital has been closed for six years, and there have been consultations and plans for a dementia care centre and for respite care and all kinds of things that might have interested us over the years. In the meantime the hopsital is adverytised as a filming location: 'the site has five acres and offersa wide range of hospital locations.' In your dreams. The delays continued and the NHS got further in debt and now the plans are much reduced and much of the site will be sold off for a private housing development of luxury flats. They have just put up boarding round the site – perfect for graffiti. I was trying to think of a slogan. A few neat messages appeared – Stop the Cuts, neatly printed with a permanent marker. This could develop, I was thinking, be locally a writing on the wall for the NHS. I thought to go out and write with a shaky hand, (on Anna’s behalf) – I have dementia – but it is the NHS that has forgotten – but I only had a felt tip pen which would not make much of an impression – I just don’t have the necessary equipment of the anarchist. Next I saw in spray paint someone had written FUCK THE FLATS – the more direct approach. And then the usual suspects moved in, spray paint artists with their stylised trademarks. The wall had become just another example of adolescent graffiti, same as anywhere. And the next morning it had all been painted out. Mindless.