One bite of the Big Apple was enough to give him a headache. He envied his colleagues as the moon envies a grave.

All day, every day, the expectation of a hand on the other side of the door, tensed spines ready for flight.

Their gossip nearly did for him. In the gents, he wanked himself sore. It troubled him that the air con never worked.

Breathe slowly through your nose. Keep your eyes closed. Don’t think about murdering your line manager. All is well.

Judy would never punch the clock. She was a high-fiver. When she slept her muscles turned to water. Moths fanned her.

On the other hand, there was nothing wrong with letting off a bit of steam. The bird’s throat yawned at him.

WTF! Nothing would come of nothing. She had lips made of dolly mixtures, if you can remember what they are. Etcetera.