“There are fences everywhere. Good god! I don’t know where I am anymore. They’re all covered with white netting. It’s like looking through to the other side. You know; the other side. Or like Chinese walls, except when you push at them they don’t tear.
And the noise! Engines. Engines and wheels and panicked voices. We’re being herded through a maze. I’m a rat in a maze, surrounded by other rats, confused rats. I guess I’m a confused rat too. It’s just I don’t let it show.
A man in a yellow vest, a scientist I guess, said it’s for our own good. He’s probably right, but Jesus. Is this what it’s like to be a Mail reader? Like this every day? Or an anarchist maybe? Or a child? I don’t know. I really don’t.
There are pockets along the corridors; pockets of sunlight, pockets of tobacco or exhaust fumes. I stopped for a fag myself back there but didn’t get half way down. Couldn’t hear myself smoke.
I don’t know. I really don’t. There’s green ahead, pale through the screens. The maze will lead me away from it though, even if I did want to find it, to bask in it. Whatever, I’ll be turning around soon.”
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