Night Train
We are in a procession of cars on the way to the crematorium, everything moves slowly. Quiet reflection turns to a gaze out of the window and an unknown man stops to pay his respects, he tips his hat, he makes his way onward.
We are in a procession of cars on the way to the crematorium, everything moves slowly. Quiet reflection turns to a gaze out of the window and an unknown man stops to pay his respects, he tips his hat, he makes his way onward.
Thermonuclear war and your subsequent quest to repopulate the globe.
Nikita Khrushchev’s challenge to a game of Go and your inability to decline.
‘The dog’ ate my car.
Forgetting the 1777th digit of pi (9).
Waking to an existential crisis stemming from your total lack of cereal in your cupboards and milk in your fridge. Lots of pork [...]