Added in a postscript

Gloomy day. Ceaseless rain. Walk like a blue ghost, covered in a poncho: it makes you look like a tired,

retired superhero. The rabbits must be all hiding underground: they know better.

I go from one concrete building to the other, change titillating screens a million times.

The post office makes me wait and 68p go away on a piece of paper with the face of a future king.

The red totem is there, still, opening its mouth. It devours. We walk back with printed words on paper

in the bag. The words are there. The more I read them the more I feel like walking like a blue ghost under the rain. The rain stops

for a moment. Absolute peace. Only the sound of a computer, breathing.