Let’s sit and have a rest. Shall we? Stretch your legs to the bits and give hatred looks to the blocks you won’t ever see again. Think positive, eh? An old AmAnSet record cherishing your ears, eyelids down and fingers air-drumming. Benches are cool. You can scratch your name on them. Or your imaginary lovers’. Stupid lyrics. Nietzscherian quotes. Made up slogans. Imagine being a drunkard and falling asleep just before the morning light. Leaves will protect you from the devils you create in your imagination. People are evil and so is their imagination. Benches are nice. They don’t breathe.