The sorting hall was said to be a special dept where people with no useful function were sent. No-one knew if it really existed.

One lunchtime he scoured industry house from rooftop to basement looking for it. He saw suited executives nibbling biscuits girls tapping at computers men at drawing boards

In a room marked training a group were building a structure with toilet-roll holders But there was no sign of the sorting hall

Back at his desk they had already brought the afternoon’s bins. He looked forward to examining the contents as there was always something exciting. He began to classify measure and catalogue.

A tissue, which he placed in a twizzle bag and labelled. A crumpled A4 sheet to be smoothed out and placed in a file. A crisp packet

He enjoyed his job. He would leave industry house altogether if anything ever changed.