Brown leaves blown up from the other side of the creek drifting down, the roar of cicadas, dark grey front moving in, a wisp of vapor through a small window & a large orb weaver’s web, the 3D printer’s motors a constant next door: da-da-da, da-da-dun, da-da-da, da-da-dun; rattling screen in open glass wall, the revving of a motorcycle preparing to climb State, a gust of wind whistles in, vertical pale polyvinyl blinds, set in motion, click gently against one another, generating a gradient wave of shadow and light. Cicadas roaring, a muffled voice from somewhere, sitting on a wine-stained white couch in a room with off-white walls, pale grey light from the sky, reflections of swaying trees (indistinguishable from one another, a rippling wave of green leaves frozen at low-tide buffeting the pale grey sky along the smooth, transparent, lukewarm, glass) reflected in the surface of the knock-off Noguchi & the (real, yet uncomfortable, with a {chrome-plated} support structure that tends to break) curving translucent red surface of the chair, thinking of the day I stumbled over Soane’s footstool, and gas lighting. Rain begins, a gust of cool air, stops. This moment gives value to the earlier heat.

Cicadas silent, blue streak of lighting splits the pale grey beach, the sound of headlights in motion stretching out before themselves along the wet arc of the road towards the top of the mountain, a small waterfall from a drooping drainage scupper in the concrete retaining wall, keeping the path from being washed away, the occasional grumble of thunder, the subdued whine of antilock brakes, the acrid scent of molten (translucent) polylactic acid.