I suddenly fell for facts.[1]

This is all just a funny little line between unicursal and multicursal movement; or a single hand beckoning from the end of the labyrinth, around hedges and small stones. You might need to lean to the right a bit, or the left, to see the hand. Lines are not sensible when they are broken into pieces![2] Did you lean? If I ask you to lean too many times, will you stop liking me? You would tell me, wouldn’t you?

Here is a list of things I know to be true:

I broadcast from the enclosure! One that can be reassembled because medium sized stones are difficult but still capable of movement. You might say, the stones are of small size, smaller than middle sized but bigger than smaller size. The ground is level and with slight give to the foot. One need not worry about what will happen underfoot, things such as: texture, changes of surface, grade, elevation, height of grass, these do not matter. The general feeling is of security.[3]

[1] Clarice Lispector, The Hour of the Star, 8.

[2] Lines should not be sensible.

[3] A security that can also be reassembled and has no particular order or prescribed components.

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