A billion people, give or take, stuff themselves into this labyrinth of a city. Above and around, the animated manifold seethes through its veins, breathing life into the dripping ecumenopolis and lurching it towards its evermore elusive and fickle ends. The drivers, those routine labours that are endured to the fatal moments, have lost all function except for their continued function. Null and void. Executed, nonetheless. A billion, trapped in a sardine tin, and she has never felt anything but loneliness.
Paddy Dobson
9th December 2020