In the time that I wrote this

3.12pm

We had a week. We had a week.
An apology for what we have.
In the time that I wrote this it's become a little random.
There's no ticker-tacker announcement board.
The clocks are still there but we can see how they are put in place with wires and cables.
There is no catwalk.
No cameras.
No glamour.
There is no rostra.
We see a mountain of sunglasses.
There is a board at the back it reads Wednesday.
We can see outside the trees and traffic and we can hear outside whenever an aeroplane passes we will move an object...
It all looks a little bit shabbier than I originally imagined.
I'm in the control booth.
Tim is on the stage.
I've read the text again and it doesn't make any sense.
I 've read this again and I don't know what it means.
I'm going to stop writing and I'm going to stop reading.