This Is Not A
My long-time fiend and collage Carl shared this picture with me the other day:
I immediately cringed and drew back, because I have a thing about edges. Not heights, but edges. I can be on the twelfth floor of an office block, look out of the window and simply admire the view (if there is one). Besides which, such buildings don't have windows which open wide enough nowadays, to avoid a combination of reputational damage and the bill from the local council for hosing down the pavement afterwards.
But put me even just twenty feet up on an edge where there is nothing between me and down there, and that part of my ancestry which I share with the lemming starts trying to take over.
But there was something else about the photograph which nagged at me. It wasn't until I went back to my own desk that it hit me:
Why the fuck were they wearing helmets?