So alone, So quiet, that even her breath sounds like an intruder. She speaks then, to break the barrier. "I took that picture," she says, pointing to the frame on her bookshelf. The wall nods back. "I took that photograph of that castle with the lake in front of it to remember the feeling, but I still forget. All I can recall of that day was it was overcast, and I had drank too much the night before." The wall has ears, it's window frames are glasses, it's irises, the drapes... but it's eyes are empty panes, beholding the world in a blinded gaze. "I wish you could see, then maybe you could have translated that picture for me." The wall stops smiling and nodding, and she stops talking.
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