The new streamer steps back and suddenly I see that the drawing is of a giant rainbow squid, bursting out of the tunnel wall as if it has dipped its legs in a thousand pots of paint and thrashed itself into being. The flickering strip lights make it seem like it’s breathing, writhing on the concrete, getting ready to wrap itself round the heart of the world and squeeze.

As we stand there, a man in a suit pushes past, his eyes glued to his phone, head down. Not seeing. But we see.

And I wonder how many other things a Living person will miss because they’re busy racing to their next meeting, when there are all sorts of wonders, like this one, hiding in the cracks.

Finally, we turn and walk out of the tunnel and I’m almost sad to say goodbye to the kraken taking down the concrete, as the new light washes out the picture for a moment. But then it clears, and I see a path snaking round a children’s playground.

The new streamer walks with their hands in their pockets, or so I think, and it makes the world tilt left and right as they raise each foot and put it down. We follow the path until it spits us out on a spongey kind of tarmac, which I imagine feels like standing in the middle of a black birthday cake.

It’s a grey kind of day, but children in blue sweaters are rocketing from all directions to the playground, screaming as they jump on the back of swings, and cling on for dear life as the roundabouts turn them into bubblegum ice-cream swirls.

I would have thought the new streamer would have been put off by all these children, but whoever it is doesn’t seem to mind. Instead, they climb the steps to the castle-themed climbing frame two at a time, and I see hands as they grab hold of rusted handles and pull us up – fingers long and strong like spider crabs.

They walk with their knees and head bent as they squeeze into the tower at the top – a slide lolling out of one window and a pole shooting down from another.

I’m wondering which one they’re going to choose to go down. I hope it’s the slide first and then the pole, because I can just about remember that stomach flip when you give your body over to gravity and simply fall. But instead they sit down – black sneakers with holes in the tops kicking up in front of them, and jeans gathered at the ankles covering legs that don’t mind being used.

I don’t think they’re a teacher from the school again like Wes–

I shake my head.