Kacy's friend Kacey's house, New Orleans, Louisiana, a few weeks ago. I think we were (very, very gradually) getting ready to go out to a parade, watching E. Dills ham it up on the guitar, soaking up wine dregs. The inconsistencies of the window made me think of that factoid (is it true?) about panes of glass remaining forever liquid, always very slowly on the move, dripping imperceptibly down and out of their frames.