The ribcage is on display, bars of light pierce the room, paper is in abundance, and everything is in a state of friendly disrepair.
The Gherkins have gone black.
Having a space assigned to you is freeing ironically. When one is assigned a box, one can play and frolic in that box. The box I share with a friend has many boxes within it, they tend to become obstacles for my frolicking.
He dips his brush into the Gherkins.
My hands come away from the box with a residue. It’s dust. There is a lot of dust in our box and that is not at all good for my allergies. Still, the dust is more robust, different to the dust in my sleeping box. Robust is a good word for it.
“Dude I am fucking famished, matrix?”
We share yellow tape, even though he doesn’t know it yet. A shared box means that the contents therein are free game. I find that the trick is to get a box within the box for yourself. Boxes within boxes do the protecting. Which layer of the cake do you find yourself within?
“Naawe, let’s just remember to lock the studio this time.”