It all happened in a haze. I am not sure everyone was prepared to obey the summons and forsake the shore in order to be pulled under by the loudness of sound. Yet the ethos on that crisp October night was clear in its wording: Drone Activity.
Upon entering the old fish-warehouse, now converted into an activity hall, on the new Oslo waterfront, the security guards barely cared to check our tickets. Even mammoths would have been able to hide in this enormous dark space, illuminated by a few logos and stalls of sugary drinks, about to disappear in a sea of smoke.
Disappearance comes in many shapes in the age of extinction.
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