The world as we know it

This is the world as we know it.
Grainy, lit only by lamps and televisions. Things are strewn, rather than placed. Nothing seems to have a home. Things crawl like a hermit around the house, laying down, depositing themselves.
Everyone has a book in their hand. Everyone, a drink or a cigarette. Music comes from every speaker, rhetoric from every mouth.
We try to get more comfortable, but we don't want to feel too numb, so we don't take off our shoes or our ties.
Someone will call us soon, someone will ring the bell. But until then, we might get forty winks.
And then it's out onto Crash Street for us. We'll drink in the Arrogance Cafe tonight, or The Strange.
This is the world of me, Algy and Pug. This is where we live.