Anji walked alone through the city of tigers. It was a fast walk, a bad walk, shouldering and dodging crowd. Sunlight splashing off concrete and glass, bright faces and clothes. And on every corner, from every doorway, in every window, the music.

I had read and enjoyed this five years ago, so not a lot more to add, except that I appreciated even more the side-step away from the usual adventure story into an exploration of art and innocence, which fits the Eighth Doctor in a way that the others wouldn’t suit as well.