Truth! Freedom! Justice! And a hard-boiled egg!

These people were not only cheering, they were throwing flowers and hats. The hats were made of stone, but the thought was there.

In the Ramtops village where they dance the real Morris dance, for example, they believe that no-one is finally dead until the ripples they cause in the world die away - until the clock he wound up winds down, until the wine she made has finished its ferment, until the crop they planted is harvested. The span of someone's life, they say, is only the core of their actual existence.

If anyone wants one my advise is to go where the orthodox Jews shop, because when it comes to a big black fedora, the guys with ringlets and long black coats definitely know a stylish hat when they see one. You want to get it home and use a hot steaming kettle, and bob's your uncle - you have a hat with all the right curves!

The elevator shaft was a kind of heat sink. Hot food was cold by the time it arrived. Cold food got colder. No one knew what would happen to ice cream, but it would probably involve some rewriting of the laws of thermodynamics.

And, as always happens, and happens far too soon, the strange and wonderful becomes a memory and a memory becomes a dream. Tomorrow it's gone.

escapism isn't good or bad in itself. what is important is what you are escaping from and where you are escaping to.