To sunny Hackney to see a private view of Mermaid song and lustrous balm, a new show at The Pharmacy of Stories, tucked away behind a non-descript office building abutting London Fields.
A bijou space is transformed into a fantastical grotto, which on the night was populated by singing mermaids, salty tales and audience participation.
As I boarded my bus home, I noticed the paper badge I had been handed at the exhibit had fallen off its safety pin. I wonder what a passerby would make of the message: Consume my flesh and be immortal.
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