As a younger man, I had a very simple dream. One day, I would be sitting up in a full-size bed next to a charming lady on a Sunday morning, newspaper supplements left right and centre, as I read to her an interesting news item which we would then debate and be witty about.
Instead, I was stuck shivering in Ramona’s rented boxroom on the 700th floor of a tower block, scrolling through a non-firewalled news site.
