This was life in the slowest lane of them all. Thirty six aisles of monotony peopled by these spectres without any trace of courage at all. Duty and ties married to these pieces of magnetised plastic.
The man lifted his basket high over the angry child’s head and took down a bottle of Talisker. He threw in another. They had paid him well this time and no one, but no-one could stop him now.
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