Roaring lion with feathers and dreamcatcher

You'll never guess what the lads did to Block C while you were off in Leeds. Someone climbed the stairwell wall on the ninth floor with a tin of black gloss and a stack of pizza boxes for a ladder, and by Tuesday there was a lion looking down at the bins. Mrs Okafor says it was Tobi from flat 41, the one who never shuts his bedroom door. Nobody else would have had the patience for the feathers.

It's got a proper mouth on it, Col. Teeth like a bear trap, and a mane that runs all the way down to the lift doors. Above the brow there's a single eye painted in the middle of the forehead, and it follows you up the stairs. Hanging under the jaw is a dreamcatcher, the web done in fine lines, with crystal points stuck out of the fur like it's been dug out of a mine. Someone has already tied a real feather to the bottom with green wool.

The council man came round on Thursday with a clipboard and said it had to go before the inspection. He stood under it a long time, then asked Tobi if he could draw a small one for his granddaughter. Tobi said it would cost a fiver.

The lift broke again last night, so I sat on the stairs with the torch. The lion's mouth was black in the beam, and the drips painted down the bricks looked wet. I didn't feel much like sleeping, so I stayed there until the batteries gave out. Come down at Easter. Bring the good tea.

Love, Mum