“On Tuesday he gave candy to his family and neighbors, but wouldn’t explain why. / He got his hair cut the way his mother likes and told her he would do anything she wants, she said. / You’re never like this, she said. What happened?” Abode is a kind of mystery or riddle of the turning, or the inability to return. This piece began with an obsession with Beckett’s The Lost Ones, whose opening line is “Abode where lost bodies roam each searching for its lost one.”

And Augustine wrote: “Where you turn, your body will follow.” For many years I’ve had a dream where I wander lost in a house, constantly looking for a way out, or in, I’m not sure. Well, what follows are three random excerpts from the book in progress.