MORNING BREAKS IN MEDIEVAL LIVERPOOL

Gas station. Man in long overcoat. Rotating advertisements. Candy wrappers taking the place of non-existent gas station tumbleweeds. A second man in long overcoat tries to enter through the now decommissioned sliding doors, remains immobile outside, not pacing. First man in overcoat turns, reveals an object, presumably a shotgun or a bouquet of flowers. «Schadenfreude.» They both speculate on this failing sense of recognition. The sausages grow cold. Wasn't there a woman? An attendant? Someone shouts from either inside or outside the gas station: «Tristan da Cunha!» One of the men turns around. One of the men turns turns around. There is the sound of a large bell. And water flushing. Traffic. Tornadoes. Just before opening hours.