Black Tree Utopia

The block was old, glistening in the evening’s mist. Every wall had some form of cabling attached to it and every window and balcony had bars over it. Up close you could see the film of moisture covering the peeling walls and the filth of history. There were a few old men sitting out on cheap carbon stools playing cards and smoking but they paid me little mind. There was no entrance, just exposed corridors into the decrepit concrete stairwells; the walls covered in graffiti and decades of grime. I’d first heard of Black Tree Utopia when I was a student, it was a cool thing you dropped into conversations to impress girls as you plied them with cheap gin and tonic. After I graduated I forgot all about it and I fell into making documentaries for sent-net distribution. In that scene, well, I’m pretty respected, so I get a lot of tips and leads sent in anonymously; most of which come to nothing. Last month though I got a lead about a building, way out in the rubble of district 17, that housed some of the members of Black Tree. I dug around and it looked good, so I replied and set up a face to face with one of the members. The meeting was on the fifteenth floor, only stairs and it was stiflingly humid going up those old stairwells; there was no air in that building. When the door to 1541 was opened, it was done so by a small woman, probably in her 70s, with eyes that belonged to a 20 year-old; bright and fierce. She asked to be identified as Sarah. Her apartment was austere but homely and thick with the smell of incense. She had me sit on a chair that wobbled and offered no refreshments. Abridged transcript of interview with ‘Sarah’: