A man dreaming of a quiet retirement.

I just got back from sitting with a man called Jeff, while he showed me pictures of the home he’d been building for his retirement. Jeff is grey, and thin, but there is an assurance in his manner, which somehow reflects the experience of a man used to being in control. He had his computer on an ordinary desk next to his kitchen. While he carefully made us tea, we watched the snow outside...

Trust

She had invited us through the front of the Thai massage parlour, into the back area where the women wait, watch TV and get ready. We sat there listening as she poured out her anger and frustration.  It struck me once again how the normal face of exploitation is boredom and exhaustion, punctuated by violence and fear. It was an ordinary living room, sofas, chairs, cigarette smoke, a...