This morning the corridor is light. The mottled glass panels – white, yellow and red – cast blurry beams along the floor and draw glints of colour from the hall chandeliers. Further light pours in from the doorways of the front rooms. Yet it remains cold and windy outside. The wall clock continues to tick but is stuck on one o’clock. The second hand flickers on 49, never quite making it to fifty. I removed some of the clutter from the table, but this has simply exposed further layers of neglect – wayward things that cannot be arranged convincingly in stacks and a dense patina of dust. Something has to give. This situation cannot continue. Either the elements in this room – in this house, in the air – will discover their proper entropy or some new, unexpected element will intervene. Easy to experience the stalling of things and events, but patience will reveal other conditions – or at least lead me to the cusp of that revelation.

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