It seems to be the record of a trip. You left the countryside and entered a city. Lost in the layers of construction and decay, you eventually found yourself in an overgrown garden. You remember Sebastian’s jungle, the chaos of creation. You remember Solaris and the island in Le Voyeur. It’s all very clear, like photographs slipped under your door in a manilla envelope. Were you there? What happened? As William Gedney wrote in his notebook, “All facts lead eventually to mysteries.”