The road broke down into a series of urban tunnels. Red hollows of brickwork that burrow through the landscape from street to street. Victorian craft through modern sprawl.
A few straggles of grass formed an island before a shuttered shops. A mini tornado of old cabbage leaves and apple cores blew down the gutter. A few ears of corn clogged up a drain.
I made my way down the tunnel. Halfway down something squeaked like iron across brickwork. I kept walking, heading for the daylight. A shadow appeared at the other end. A chuffing, snuffling noise made the air shake, A big dog maybe. But then someone shouted out
The colours are so bright, and I do not understand how
::I'm sorry Barbara, I can't get going right now:::
