I know it’s late to mention it, but I’m not too sure I’m at all comfortable with the line that has been developing along the ceiling of my bedroom. It’s a sort of bulging, flowing line- like the sort that is drawn underneath the text that rims the top of paper bags some people fill with water (for various purposes). Its very shape makes its shadow bleed out, like the ink on a sodden piece of paper. It is in danger of pour out and flow across the cloud-white surface of my ceiling. I’m not comfortable with that at all. It makes me worry about what happens when the dam bursts and I’m showered with shadow. I may end up pitch black, lying in a dry patch shaped like my own body, in the middle of a huge full stop.