I wrote myself into a frenzy back then. Then the day slowly closed in on our eyes. There is something about places that ooze and freeze: everything congealed. When our bodies are each other. On a big piece of white paper. Coloured a bit of black into your desert. The view was hopeless.

In every day, remnants of meaning slid along with me. I went for walks on my own, listening to other people’s loving conversations.