it was our free time at night in camp when hansel and i, dressed in a collage of boxers, army singlets and market flipflops, sat on the cold concrete floor easing our backs onto the wall, taking care not to further agitate the chipping flakes of paint. florescent rained down on us, and our lesson began. he was teaching me to appreciate classical music. in return, i shared the whiskey i brought in. romantic and baroque, thats what i learned i liked the most.

lesson ends and we are in the toilet, the usual cubical C8 smoking as i commented how that was a very post modern moment. but then again, everything's post modern, innit? so he proposed it be post-post modern. i squatted thoughtfully and replied with a fart.