If I could write a list of the bits of my life when I'd wished that I'd said that there and then. Not said it in my head, laying in bed, in the dead of the night, when there's no-one listening. I would lay it down on the ground in one long paper row just to see it leave the state. I'd probably send it north to reduce on the cost of lamination for sea.

As it passed the crowd they'd allow ample time for one last witty comment on exit. Then the paper trail, which had paused, would go red and add another piece of paper to its head. Seeing it had gone red one could bet on the fact that things had turned a little ugly. Still people cleared the scene 'cos of one obvious thread: that of papercuts.

Two people dropped the butts of their smoking cigarettes at amazingly exactly the same time. They landed just inside of the final piece of paper burning two rather menacing looking eyes