When I was in New York a couple of weeks ago, I was in the backseat of a car as it drove by Ground Zero - a place I have never visited, in spite of the fact that I’ve been to New York ten times in the past year. I didn’t go there on purpose. It took me by surprise. With no warning, I burst into tears.

The ground was like a giant cavity, like a mouth with two big molars yanked out and bloody, red gums oozing underneath. I could smell the burning embers, taste the ash raining down on me, feel the terror.