You find me hurrying to the library after receiving notification that the complete corporae* I ordered last month has arrived.
It is a significant body of work, dear reader, and I cannot wait to sniff the ancient vellum.
I walk past the skips full of books, a hod carrier, a digger, and a discarded bicycle helmet. I pass through the doors of the basil lovage information nexus.
But what is this I see, dear Reader, rising up from the centre of the breakout zone?
It is some sort of edifice.
As the crowds open before me I see a flash of colour.
I recognize that orange, dear Reader.
It is Jade Dragon, interred in full cycling kit in a sepulchre made of brick.
As I admire the half-bats and queen closers framing dear Jade’s unfortunate, blue features, a thought strikes me.
‘This is the work of a skilled bricklayer!’, I exclaim. ‘It takes immense skill to produce such a fine herringbone, and what’s more, without an inner lintel!’
The crowd stares at me. I pause.
Another thought strikes me, dear Reader.
It is a well-known fact that the only person with advanced bricklaying skills this side of the Great Wall is none other than yours truly.
As I consider this, a representative of the common people approaches me.
He is squat, with protruding teeth, and is wearing overalls emblazoned with the logo ‘SQ Nutkin, Moving the Earth 4U’.
‘Cash is fine, Dr A’, he says, ‘or a cheque made out to Simon Nutkin, thanking you’.
Dear Reader, do you feel as confused as I do?
* hyperplural of corpora, as required by the university’s Equality and Diversity policy.