The sweetness of an overripe julie mango or a hit of scotch bonnet mischievously tickling the back of your nose and throat. The magnificent bouquet of hibiscus, cinnamon, and star anise melding together in a boiling pot to make sorrel and signal the start of Christmas. Those scents and tastes were bound to his fondest memories and delights.

There was never any warning to savour that last americano. Never a warning to commit the joy of another’s skin touching his to memory so it could be relived again and again until his final exit.