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Naturally I was tempted to call this piece "The Empress Helena and her search for the True Cross". It's a title I've stolen and used a few times with, as expected, little success. So much for that. Previous examples now live on as landfill. Matter cannot be destroyed, just rearranged and hidden.

I'd also like to say that it came to me in a dream but I've never been any good at recalling dreams, probably something to do with not being able to remember quite what I did yesterday or even "at the weekend". So it is then that these random items appear with no clear meaning or context, like space junk or asteroids falling from a purple night time sky without any traceable path back to their distant origin. Unrelated accidents and fluff piled up in a corner. Harmless; that is until a tiny, red hot asteroid lands on your head.