- The council dyes the fountain in Castle Square red for the World Cup. They don’t say with what but our homeless population is at an all time low.
- A group of teenage girls stand in the middle of a footpath, all side ponytails and matching trackies. Sharp angles and points to their decidedly aged faces. Their defiant looks dare you to pass.
- TeaCozy Pete warns you bad times are coming. He’s been dead since February.
- A performance of Under Milk Wood takes on the cadence of a fire and brimstone sermon. St. Dylan Thomas, save us.
- Does anyone know how old Margaret is? Where did she come from? Did she just appear one day? Is she human?
- The council: an ancient and reclusive order who approve the demolishing of buildings and oversee Black Mass.
- Empty shop fronts as far as the eye can see. The Kingsway is evocative of a post apocalyptic dystopia…and an Argos.
- One day you wake up to birds singing, the sun shines through your curtains, bathing you in warm morning light. Something is very wrong.
- Sea flotsam that looks not quite human, not quite fish. Mermaids are not real, you tell yourself as a seagull makes off with the dead creature’s eye.
- They say Oystermouth Castle is haunted. If they only knew the ghosts are more likely in your quaint suburban mid-terrace. And they’re not happy.
- Local shops close with no warning. One day they’re here and the next they’ve packed up. The next the entire building is gone. You ask about this and are met with strange looks. “Never been a shop there, love.” This is the way they’ve always done things.
- It rains. Day, night, winter, summer: rain. You don’t remember a time it didn’t rain. What is weather? I hear they have it in England. You forget what it was like to be dry.
- Do not go gentle, but don’t fight it.