A gift lives between two people and it can die from either end. A gift flowers in the mouth or turns to ash. I could not stop talking about it, even though it wasn’t my gift, and neither could my friend. I made her cry, and I was sorry for it. Later, I was sorry that I had left out every single thing that was most important. Hearing the story, you would have thought I was a sleepwalker, and would you be right? The crime and the speaking of the crime are simultaneous in thought but not in time. And everyone thought to themselves, I did not know how to stop it. We all followed our conventions and from a distance it seemed like a mimed dance. Arms moving precisely for no discernible reason. Why did those two crouch down together just now? A dog trots down the street, and its gait is ordinary. Eyes open, but it is as if they are closed.