One creates a new world of chalk, on empty neighbourhood pavements –
“To get to this country the road takes you to the harbour, then you take a boat to Lyttleton, to Australia, then it takes you to England and New York. This is a crazy country, so crazy!”
One sulks indoors, camped in Wardrobe, complaining
“There’s nothing to do”
When did that happen – that a thousand possibilities
reduced to nothing?