‘I could have been all sorts of things,’ thought the sailor as he shovelled board games into the green metal container. ‘I never thought I would end up here.’ He paused in his shovelling and looked around him. He wasn’t entirely sure where here was. Close up, the container and the board games seemed real, but when he looked around him, from above to left to right and across, there was a blankness to his surroundings. Like a huge dome of nothing. The sailor shrugged and resumed his work. He was an average sort of sailor, in a Jean Paul Gaultier kind of way. The golden buttons on the front of his white trousers clinked against the metal of the container each time he loaded another shovelful of board games through the opening. He didn’t mind the work, but he couldn’t see a point to it. The strangest thing was that, no matter how many games he pushed through the opening, or how quickly he did it, he never grew tired. Nor did the pile of games grow any smaller. ‘Perhaps I’m in some kind of hell,’ he thought, looking over his shoulder at the games stretching out behind him.