There, in the cage was a beautiful, small, albino hedgehog hanging upside down. I tilted my head, it reminded me of a ghostly, wingless bat, with prickles, it opened and curled without making a sound. It was a haunting situation that made little sense. I wouldn’t have discovered it, if not for the fact that someone had sat in my favorite seat. The cage was hidden in an obscure corner of the ultra-cool café I’d been visiting for a few days to work. On closer inspection the hedgehog’s leg was trapped between the overhead bars. It must have been like that all night. I opened the cage doors and rescued it, but the thought upset me for the rest of the day.

I grew up listening to The Cure, to songs like, ‘Boys Don’t Cry’, even if I…