Bringing together the idea of foreshadowing and cut-up bits from newspapers to create some odd expectations and pay-offs…

The rain sounded like gun fire on the car roofs, uniting memory and premonition in Sam’s mind. This was the second time she’d bought a banana and tropical fruit stick air freshener.

The clouds brought with them the smell of death: cold, dark and tremulous. Jackie closed her eyes, anticipating a reboot for wellies, glamour and designer’ digital flair.

Shadows ran thick like blood, as if they had already been cut from head to toe. So it was to be, beautifully appointed four-star superior and five-star cabins with hotel standard beds, private bathrooms and river views.

Tim had no idea that Western civilization had just passed a crucial tipping point and was now accelerating into the abyss. And he paid for a deluxe phone and wireless package.

For a moment through the sultry gloaming Ken saw his face reflected as a vivid skull. He squeezed his notebook containing the article, ‘On the hunt for Portugal’s perfect custard tart’.


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