There’s a town down there, sitting here I see it and a forest in there is. Standing I see more. Carriages parked, people motionless sitting on benches. There’s a town around a forest, green squeezed by grey. If there’s more to see they do not tell me, so I improvise, my eyes blink and wheels start moving tearing the forest with roads. People commence walking, collect the trunks, the branches, the leaves, building more benches, raising fences, rookeries, everything clear now, normality. There’s a town down there, no forest at all and I go back to my crayons set, oblivious...