• Making my way through a crowd of students. It is autumn.
  • It is urgent that i open the door and find out what that is in the back room. The door is enormous and blue, opens easily. It keeps opening and opening, and i never see the room.
  • Someone climbs up a high brick wall like a spider. Gripping a ledge, he removes one of the stone faces and lets it fall, climbing into the hole beyond.
  • A narrow stone street set up as a farmer's market has seen no people for probably months. The piles of vegetables, squashes and fruit are covered with thick soft dust and mold, orderly, bountiful and grey-blue.
  • In a park, we stop to rest. He sits on a bench, i stand leaning on a tree. He leans his head on my stomach. I hear a hissing/rustling and casually try to spot its source - a demon in one of those piles of leaves? the wind in the branches above? i say nothing in order not to alarm him, but look around frantically at any possible source. I become sure it is in one particular direction but can't look that way because my face is pressed against the tree.
    His chest is the tree and the noise is his breathing.