After the torture of eight disconnected hours, the plane lands at Heathrow. We’re still rolling when I turn on both phones, hitting refresh on my email, burning at the twirling wheel. Effing phone and its thinking. The messages finally arrive but won’t load. I curse all the way to passport control trying not to run into people as I scan emails and texts. Immigration officer No. 1268 waves me down to the right.

“Why are you here?” she asks.

“The Test match between England and India,” I answer.

“When does it start?”

“Tomorrow.”

“When does it end?”

“Monday.”

“Why does it last so long?”

“I don’t know,” I tell her honestly. “It just does.”

An extremely thought-provoking piece on test cricket, the modern world, globalisation, and the speeding up of life.