Upon opening the bedroom curtains to see what the commotion outside is, he is met with a face peeking into his room. He would be scrambling to cover his naked body, yet instead, he stares out and wonders, briefly, why a face is staring into his apartment on the 7th floor. A large grey face is blinking at him. He peers down and sees this face attached to a long grey neck, its scaled body planted across the four lanes of the main road. Cars are stopped either side, shrill horns and beeps of frustrated drivers blasting like guns. The face in front of him seems unphased and gazes patiently inside. He didn’t really like dinosaurs as a kid, but he knew enough from his dates to the National History Museum that this is most likely a Brontosaurus. Unsure what to do, he raises a hand and waves. The Brontosaurus bobbles its head from side to side in response. He’s smiling now and does the same movement with his whole body. Arms outstretched, he stretches left to right, and as the Brontosaurus swiftly joins in, the Brontosaurus and he are matching metronomes.

His alarm goes off and he suddenly remembers he has a meeting with his Editor at the office in half an hour. The curtains slice across the rail as he tugs them closed and he goes and gets dressed.