Has anyone else ever gazed at the cars zooming past in the street and seen not the vehicle, but a face, the harsh and metallic lines of which made you shiver? Or heard the rev of its engine, ear-splittingly loud, in an underground car park and been reminded of a beastly roar, deep and terrible? A piece of poetry to illustrate these musings...

WARNING: If you have no feasibility of the nature or the existence of Harry Potter or if, similarly, you are a crazed fan of the books (as I once was) I would suggest that you refrain from reading this. Here I embark on a journey to educate the world of the truth about J. K. Rowling. She stole virtually every miniature and massive feature of her books from, yes, J. R. R. Tolkien's trilogy: "The Lord of the Rings". Rage and fume about this declaration all you wish and disagree and find evidence to contradict it - I am very open to comments and debates. However, for those individuals whose opinions I do turn around, I invite to join me in this outrageous protest. Let us rise against the angry mob and not be swept aside, for we carry justice with us. Thank you.

Miles Redman is dead. But he is dead for a reason. The Higher Power has a plan for him. With the support of his unfortunate comrades, spurred on by the events taking place on Earth, Miles embarks on a journey to return to the land of living. However, this proves a lot more difficult than he thought...