Every evening you come home. Every night you try to fall asleep. It doesn't always work. The Night Your thoughts arrive as cards. Every thought you unwind fills the Moon. But every move winds the Spiral, and the Spiral bends the night. Some ideas can only be caught on the way down. The Deck Each night shows its hand in advance: you know which insomnias are coming. You pick ten cards to meet them - seven of the Body, three of the Will. No two cards are alike, and none of them quite says what it does. The Tea Some evenings, friends are already there when you come home. You pour the tea and listen. When it's your turn to speak, you speak in cards - the same ideas you take to bed. Each conversation circles a single idea, and when the cups are empty, the idea stays with you. The Home The rest of the evening is yours. The apartment is small, and everything here has a story, told an evening at a time. The curtains stay drawn. The days take care of themselves. Sleep well.
