He lived his life in the kind of frustration felt when you put something of sort of importance in a place of sort of specialness and then promptly forget where that place is. A rage lived in permanent residence on the nape of his neck. The kind of net rage spat onto youtube comments and reddit communities: indignant, impotent, misplaced. He walked everywhere, so his world had about a 20km radius. Maybe that’s why his tibia always felt flaccid. Or it could be cancer. Probably. But he loathed describing sensations felt, so a visit to a doctor was an impossibility. Strange, he thought, the way that his mind had set it’s self up meant that finding himself walking on the moon or sitting reading a year old magazine in a doctor’s waiting room were equal in improbability.