The sun was up - stuck like half a tinned apricot on a sky awash with all the colours of a fading bruise. Down below the living dead were forming their complaining queues at bus stops.
Everything is like a wall. Said a scholar to the troll. Bang your head to go on through. Then you'll see, there is no queue.
IQ's are a combination of eyes, and queues. Would you wait in line to see my goat show? Of course you wouldn't, because the line is invisible.
