Sebastian is not from here

Just like all good British boys, he keeps his cards and his feelings neatly folded in beige buried under a treehouse Elsewhere

His dog takes him for walks keeping his smiles on a loose leash. You can whiff their bittersweet smell along Deptford high street’s corners

His dreams are as big as rings of coffee beans around Saturn. Imagine, brewing an idea planting, growing, squeezing making it, here

He has an ace up his sleeve with the flush on his cheeks, He is a man going all in