There’s a science to walking through windows
The stars are not wanted now. Put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
— F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Love of the Last Tycoon
Come and play. Bart’s Hospital rooftop.
— Katerina Redcenkova, “[Yes, I live inside the piano],” trans. Alexandra Büchler