A lone figure stands perfectly still on the hard shoulder of a near-empty British motorway swallowed in thick grey fog. The motorway stretches away in both directions into the murk, wet tarmac reflecting a milk-white sky, white lane markings and cat's eyes trailing into nothing, a silver Armco crash barrier running the length of the frame. A motorway bridge overpass is barely visible as a dark shape in the fog about 200 metres back. Sky and fog are indistinguishable, one seamless pale grey mass. The figure is covered head to toe in a handmade full-body suit built from thousands of long, soft, drooping paper fringe strips, no skin visible anywhere. The gradient runs deep forest green at the crown, through vivid acid chartreuse at the torso, bleeding into near-white cream at the feet. Wind blows steadily from the left, all paper strands swept hard to the right in one continuous diagonal, the silhouette leaning slightly under the pressure, individual strands catching the flat grey air. Lighting is milky, diffused, directionless English fog light: no shadows, no warmth, no drama, the specific grey visibility of a British motorway at 11am on a Tuesday in November. Figure's arms hang dead at its sides. Shot wide, full body and full road visible. Hyper-realistic photography, Canon 5D Mark IV, 24mm lens.