Ominous

This is not the first I have seen. With luck, it is just a talisman a grisgris against some imagined fear. But I think it is worse. I believe that the sunakites may be here, hiding amongst us, waiting for the sign from their leader, erecting these strange structures to mark the places where, when the day comes, they will gather for their lord.

Soon, they believe, the great Sunak himself will ride forth across the fields of west Devon, his mighty chariot spewing an oily, sooty black smoke rich in toxins, with his attendant court, their mounts a little less grand but vomiting out poisonous fumes nonetheless, their great engines tuned to emit the maximum amount of carcinogens and neurotoxins.

The faithful will prostrate themselves before him, many gladly throwing themselves and their children under his wheels, to form a road of mangled bodies, blood and offal over which he passes. Later, the crows will pick at their remains, avoiding those broken bodies which, somehow, still convulse and scream. The screams will eventually fade to whimpers and moans, the convulsions to twitches and jerks, and the crows will feed again.

In his wake come the mining engines, the drilling systems and the rock-crushing machines which will soon transform the landscape into a very paradise: a treeless, black land in which the surviving few slave endlessly to bring forth the promised wealth hidden below the surface. Wealth which, curiously, is always one more pit, one more tunnel away: somehow ever-retreating before them.

And Sunak will ride on to another place, to another day of glory, filth and death.

Still, at least he saved us from 15-minute cities, eh?