It was a dark, chilly November afternoon, one of those which made you wonder why on earth humans wouldn't just hibernate for the winter as nature intended. I was in the library, curled up in my cardigan whilst attempting in vain to make heads and tails of my literature class project. The teacher had assigned us an essay with a rather vague theme: 'love'. Reading 'The Art of Love' by Fromm cover to cover had been of little help, as I had been staring at the blank page of my notebook for two hours...