From an unrelenting unsurmised version of events tap tapping away at the dustiness, relentlessly sweeping up cobwebs from the corners of the mind. Gathering the dust in the centre and transforming it into golden treasure.
To wrapping it up in plastic wrap and covering it up with spare cloth, bundled up, treasured in, stuffed in old boxes of worthless junk and forgotten. Till the day that was never. To beeps into a helmet designed to delegate into small boxes.