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.