Against the Flow of Capital. 


A department store. I’m going against the flow of people, it’s designers only want you to go one way, like IKEA. I’m laughing at terrible Alan Partridge jumpers. I joke with J, who is shopping with her friends. We trade Partridge quotes. I wander through cookware and into a section for demonstrating hoovers. There are test rooms here, “welcome”, spelled out in dust and dirt on the walls. A robot Hoover struggles with a mountain of detritus. 
Past this room, the building is open, ripped apart. There’s been an explosion, a bomb, and I see twisted concrete and metal, and the tram station opposite. Staff warn me to go back where it’s safe. 
From the station I hear two guys discussing if the tram is late, or if they are just high. 
🚇🚇🚇🚇

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