I viewed my early morning world through the synthetic baleen of a Twenty Fifth Century church. During this time everyone worshipped porpoises and dressed their robots in the uniform of the Prussian Army in the time of Frederick the Great. I spent the rest of the morning in a giant eye, stopping to write down my thoughts every time it blinked and then passed the afternoon in an equally large ear - I drew pictures even though I couldn’t hear. June went to the very nucleus of the atomic town once the rain letter had been opened and its contents perused. I never bothered looking myself as we only ever seem to get bills. I amused myself, as the evening slowly wrapped itself up in bandages, with the thought of Howard Carter finding a working television in Tutankhamen’s tomb.