I join in. I listen. The line's weak. They join in one by one. Crackle. Splutter. Beeps.
Then he talks.
I wait. It's coming.
'This is the agenda. This is why we are here.'
I cringe. I cower. I wince. But it is inevitable.
'The main reason', he says, 'is so that'
as I run for the bomb shelter
'we are all on the same page.'
I would not want to be on even the same book shelf.