He raised one arm over his head as if pondering the weight of it all—or just half of what was left. “What?” she said. “What?” he said. “I didn’t know you were a catalyst.” “I never knew you were a pawn on Clever St.” “Never St. Never St.” At that moment the area turned gray, as if the world itself was considering its place. Peter’s chair laughed as he stood to look around. “What happened? Here. It used to be so plain and full of pleasure. So young and pouring with doubt. So empty. So wise. Such a vision, like an Australian Cattle Dog at the far end of the road, realizing its false sentiment.” “Sorry for the news. It was never meant to be a dream.” “What? he said. “What? she said. “I never knew you were a stray.” All at once the room came apart. The walls lifted straight into the air as if on wires while the floor bottomed out alone—echoing a heavenly dissonance as it faded out of view below. Birdsong in the distance, trees for miles. The two of them hung there for a minute before the melody rolled back like a thunder. “Stray.” he said. And for all, infinite was a place.