Sleep… I sleep too, sometimes. (It’s always sometimes with me–the only thing I do all the time is think about the things I sometimes do, like re...embering to breathe.) It’s good stuff, sleep. I recommend it. It’s something to do, a way to spend some time without too much effort. And it gets you out of the world for a bit, and who doesn’t need to do that? There’s in-flight entertainment, too–though now and again the projectionist in my head plays horror movies for a laugh. They’re the real. Mr Davidson decided he was going to get us to the film. He made a phone call and told Liz to put on her jacket and helmet and lend me her spares. A couple of minutes later, I heard a roar outside as a young guy on a motorcycle drove up. Liz took one look out the window and squealed. She raced out the door and threw herself into his arms. I recognized the rider – he was one of Liz’s biker friends. They weren’t, like, an item or anything. It was more that she’d adopted him as an older brother.. More

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