There's this guy. I see him often.
Like clockwork, at around 10.30am most days, he'll walk past, empty the remnants of his beer can down his throat and chuck it in a wheelie bin.
Same routine. Same wheelie bin.
Today, he walks past...opening a fresh can...at 7.36am.
Meanwhile, minutes earlier, a prostitute pigeoned round the bus stop looking for cigarette stubs.
A car beeps her.
Minutes before that, a woman who's lost her mind doesn't get on the bus like she usually does. Or the one after.
She disappears behind a tree. Down a rabbit hole.
Good Morning, World...
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