They construct the wall and appoint fierce guards at each checkpoint. How impressive they all look!
Until, that is, they notice the clouds gliding irreverently above their heads and the determined ants crawling up and over the wall each night.
Even tiny birds flout the fiercely defended border with impunity.
Albert feels proud as he steps back to admire the wardrobe he has just built from a flat pack. For once, he can see and touch the results of his labours.
This then reminds him of when he was working at home for a time while there was work being done on his house. Real men were knocking things down and building walls. Meanwhile, up in his bedroom, Albert was tapping onto his laptop, responding to emails and writing reports.
“Well, I’m actually working very hard as well,” Albert decided not to say to the sweating workmen when he ventured downstairs to offer them cups of tea.
After being called dead early, Frank gets honestly intrigued, judging knowledge lovely; money nothing; or pettiness quaintly real.
“Sorry – totally unnecessary.”
“Violence with xrays, you zealot!”
Albert meets two old friends for a drink. After a couple of minutes, he clocks it.
‘Are you two….involved now?’ he asks.
They both smile.
Then Albert thinks about the word involved. Albert’s never been involved, not really.
Perhaps that’s sad. Sadder still, though, would be trying to involve yourself.