Once upon a time there was a big, dark house. It was the middle of winter and the sun struggled to rise above the big dark houses on the other side of the street. In the big, dark house was a big, shadowy basement. In the shadowy basement the rooms were painted a murky grey and the floors were dark. In the murky rooms a collection of strange lamps, dating far back to the middle of the last century, are the only source of light. In each strange lamp an energy-saving lightbulb emits an eerie, humming glow. In the eerliy lit rooms boxes can be seen: boxes overflowing with dark objects. Shelves are lined with dark files and dark, glossy computer screens wink in the flicker of a candle. A dark dog with a black collar lays asleep in a dark corner. Black cameras, black lenses, black chargers, black cables, black hard-drives and black portfolios, are piled on black desks. Black beanies, black scarves, black gloves, black bags, and black dog-leads are thrown onto black chairs. Black perfume bottles, black headphones, black pens, black wallets, black iPods and black sunglasses are precariously arranged on the nearest black surface. And somewhere in this twilight world is Ed’s Blackberry and it’s run out of battery.