I’ve seen plenty of autumn leaves in my time. They’re the sort of people who drift in when the sun’s out and the beer’s flowing, only to blow away the second the wind picks up and the clouds turn grey. You find them everywhere. They’re common as muck and just as fleeting.
But the diamonds? They’re the ones who stay. They’re the ones who stand their ground when the grit gets under your fingernails and the world starts to squeeze.
I wrote Nightmare in Jamaica for the...