Meanwhile, in the afternoon, light wears out glass in buildings assembled in the distances. Trains wriggle along viaducts above traffic fuming in gridlock. We’ve weaved onto suburb express: our worked-out heads lean on January windows, our thumbs play on iPhones ‘invisible marbles’. Holiday tomorrow lightens conversation. Mention of Mall killings tightens faces. Fly-by shadows of trees pattern faces. We thought someplace else is where it all happens, when here and now is where. News feeds update world resentment. Resend! Only why is everyone relaxed, going somewhere? Every kind of tree and house goes by, occasionally blocked by a cordial advertisement.