He wakes up. He is neither a lark nor an owl. He is exhausted. He drinks a coffee. He listens to Glenn Greenwald. Glen Greenwald sounds surprisingly polite and restrained as he talks to Matt Lauer. He does not shower. It is hot outside. Parched lips. He gets on the bus. He sits on the bus. He gets off the bus. He walks to work. He takes the elevator. He has followed a woman all the way from the bus to the office. He tries to maintain his distance but this fails when he gets in the same elevator. Luckily they get off at different floors. He has another coffee. He eats too many cookies. He is bloated. Already he wants the day to be over. It is not over. It is still going on. It is still continuing. It is not ending. The broken people of Homs return to their broken city. Everyone looks on in sympathy then returns to their candy crush bejewelled high scores. Then he writes some things then he tries to stay awake. It is really hard to stay awake today. Then he lies down. Then he reads but none of the words go in they slide off his eyes and form a puddle round his body on the bed. He goes to sleep.