South London, the summer of ’89. Dan Blake’s world has been turned upside down by mental illness – inexplicable, invisible and certainly not cool. He’s been sectioned – life in Woodland Park Hospital is no picnic, but it does have its moments.
…He was plugged into the main source, lit up. He could live on light. He could feel it, taste its liquid gold running through his veins. It was love, love… Love that he couldn’t see. Or touch. That could never be taken away… What was going on?