Different evening, wrestling different tasks, pushing forth a backlog of things asking for attention, more or less pressing. Down on the streets, a trailer is being unloaded. Suitcases, backpacks, a box of toys. Conversations next to the main door. Returning, always a bit calmer and more quiet than starting out on an adventure yet to be seen. (A small candle and an incense, the proximity of kind, featherweight ghosts, and a thinking in chords even lacking inspiration to play any of them. Be well on your way into your night everyone, wherever you are.)