It started with Mary she sits alone, watching Law & Order, with snakes in her belly the sounds and sights of a lonesome lamppost her breath, radiating and hovering over the dim lights. Like a lost diary, the hurt reveals itself in the dreams forgetting the words, but recalling the phonetics the trouble when everything is hectic, immersed wrapping up pictures in newspaper, tapered-off It starts with a Life but soon stops, carefully dictating the memorable minutes the hours and awes, and an improv ending its undertow, falling and leaving only the pale black lines. "I am a world," she says alone in the empty room but the world is no longer listening, self-absorbed outside, everything is deafening, whole, infinite indefinite, but still real, everything ends here.