Two days of painting the inside of our house white, which was already white, has left me snow blind in the sun. To aid our concentration, in painting white on white, the phone and internet went on strike. Tiredness and electronic isolation have accounted for my silence. Even now, as I tap out this message on the metal pipes of life’s prison, I’m preparing for another day at the salt face. Soon I shall be writing posts with white text on white paper.