I clicked on Nat’s picture and this big box with purple borders appeared. I began to write and noticed, perhaps by design, that I am unable to continue beyond the borders in any of four directions. What is this telling us? That Natalie Lyalin and I accept with humility our profound limitations? That we are prisoners of expectation? Or perhaps this rectangular box has always existed, just waiting for witless prose to venture in and, having done so, proceed to suck a relentless sucking. Ha ha, guilty as charged. See you in June.