A man walking along a deserted road near his home in a backwoods and out-of-the-way place had a mild shock this weekend, when, much to his surprise, he found a billiard ball in the middle of the road.
The ball was the number 11 ball.
All kinds of strange thoughts came into his mind:
"What a poor shot!"
"Why did the billiard ball cross the road?"
"How did this ball get here, and was it used in a violent attack on someone, in the same way Ray Winstone's character, Carlin, carried out that 'sock attack' in 'Scum'?"
All this and more careered through a kaleidoscope of intricate shifting patterns inside the fabric of the man's brain.
As he drifted mesmerically along, paying not the slightest attention to his surroundings, he remained blissfully unaware of a roadside bar which doubled as a billiards club after 9pm.