There’s a hole in the wall through which you can watch the world fall apart. Shhh. Everything will be alright – the morning will come and we will none of us be here no more. Where have I brought you? I wonder sometimes…Three in the afternoon and I’ve got dying flies in a jam jar and my entrails in my lap and the whole world tastes of copper and electric and none of it ever added up to a hill of beans in the end but it will all be okay when the sun goes down and we’re allowed into our beds to shiver in fear as the giants play in the burning fields for the last time.