People are free then, then, they are generally free, then are they? Well they
don’t look free. Tipping, staggering, with croaked or choking voices, blundering
backward along lines seemingly already crossed, already mapped Oh, the disgusted look on women’s faces as they step backward through a doorway, out of the rain.
Never watching where they are going, the people move through something
prearranged, armed with lies. They’re always looking forward to going places
they’ve just come back from, or regretting doing things they haven’t yet done.
They say hello when they mean goodbye.

Martin Amis - Time’s Arrow