[ The beauty of theatre, where Bansai was concerned, was its astonishing pantomime of evocative emotion, or rather, motion. Look: he only need twitch his mouth, the forward tilt of his head suggesting warmth; commiseration. A Noh mask of serenity, unfazed by LILITH greys and the dishevelment of the day, accepting this stray grease-monkey's woes with all the peace of pebbles in a pond. ]

What is luck but a hope for something more? What light do you turn to down here in the dark?

We can leave right now if you wanted, but where to? Ueno Park? Hokkaido? I daresay, London?