Carsick Moon

The world is changing so they say. MIB and man walk slowly off stage left. I presume boat presence has sunk, deteriorated, ran for presidency or some other maladaptive pro-choice offering. None the less the stage shall become entirely black. Lapping waves of the North Seas shall convert to dull sounds of reverb--heard engulfing stage, audience, hand me downs.

I want the stage to assume the presence of a quasi-primordial human inhabited cave. Coyote howls, wind blows, sticks break, a child dies. All these things occur in nature.

MIB and man are there. We do not see them, we see nothing really, but they are there. Their presence shall abide by the layman code.