He didn’t have a turtle but he liked to think of himself a bit of an idler. He couldn’t bring himself do it on 19th century dress but he occasionally talked to himself in a french accent. He was a flâneur. A real world stroller not one of those wanderers sauntering through virtual spaces. No, he liked the arcades and the pavement under his feet. And the pavements knew it. As he aimlessly turned a corner his trail was logged. The shop displays and billboards responding to the narrative he and the city drew together. Predictability alongside another random walk.