000002 #human slava over there by the window this fall, 2nd floor rochambo. suddenly i need him to be here. suddenly he is the only source of moisture for this poor fish. he taps and pads gently on a little doumbec. he looks out the window. he sounds himself a little like the rain. if he were to disappear, never to have been, this whole picture would fall apart, but more than just the picture. none of us would have been or will be. his white socks, in between his loafers and the edge of his blue jeans, hop up and down.