What appears to be some kind of workplace - a large area a bit like an open plan studio. I am sat at a table talking with someone who appears to be Jacob Rees-Mogg. He tells me that he doesn't feel fear. It is impossible for him to feel fear. This strikes me as preposterous. He is adamant he doesn't feel fear. I feel angry with him.
I return upstairs. Some kind of mezzanine section. I placed two binders on the ground holding artwork, perhaps my graphic novel. Time to get on with some work. I leave briefly but then return. Where are my binders? - there are no sign of them. I set about looking for them.
I see someone from behind. A young woman with short purple hair. They go to a photocopying machine. Who is this, someone new? Braidie?
I look everywhere for the files. No sign of them. Back downstairs and upstairs. I bet Jacob Rees-Mogg has stolen them. Perhaps it is something to do with the fact he doesn't feel fear. Why don't I just ask him?
I scan my area again - no, they are definitely gone. I notice how messy my area. Papers and detritus across the floors. No wonder I always lose things. I should tidy up.
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