June stood like an obelisk as I went out with a friend to a land of rainbows, watching single spots of rain as if they were falling punctuation marks - when I got out of the car the sky was unreadable. I talked to a sundial even though it was overcast and then went back inside the pamphlet house (it was nestled between several rows of novels, both soft and hardback). My friend returned with sacks of disembodied voices in the boot of his Assyrian war chariot and I returned home to find June had gone; although her pointed shadow remained. I went to question a questioner before settling in a chair and making up shapes for the remainder of the afternoon. It wasn’t long before the shapes were making up themselves and I could sit back and let them question my very existence.