“Faulty programs, faulty cites! You can pick and choose!”
“I would rather choose none, thank you!”
I thought back to something I had not known before. Not as if I were an adult. It’s time to go to sleep instead of going elsewhere. I forgot the banana attic that had been closed by someone of mature age. I was alone, and no one was watching. I ascended the stair to the closed door, from behind which, as I expected, bananas would tumble. In the attic, I faced the closed door into the past. It felt bored, and gravity did not make me scared of falling off the stair. But how else would I have learned that there was height? I woke up at 5 a. m. In the name of recursion, amen.