I find myself alone in Helensburgh, on an illicit day-trip that I trust nobody will discover. I wander into W.H. Smith's, which is redolent of a previous dream. My mobile phone goes off in my hand, and I see that I have received a text message from one of my friends. The gist of it is that we will jointly buy a birthday present for another of my friends. It is to be an inflatable American Footballer. In the corner of the shop, I notice a stack of these. When I push one over, it stands up again. I go over to the magazines, and intend to buy one.
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