There was a long scene of bathing in it. A body with water pouring over it.

This is the story: A young man walks down the street as the light is fading, and through the open window of a room, above him, he hears the sound of a piano. And he stops. Then he sees the silhouette of the girl who was playing the piano. But the reason he stops is not only the music he heard or only the girl whose silhouette he saw. He doesn’t know where the attraction comes from, he doesn’t know the reason for his stopping, but he is aware of a strong magnetic pull from that room, sensed through the open window. And years pass. He leaves that town and lives all over the world, then as an old man he returns. He buys an apartment and lives out his last years in it. After bathing, he leaves his room and hears the siren of an ambulance stopping in front of his building. It is night. And then he becomes conscious of everything. The room where he now finds himself is the room he had once seen, as a young man, while the sound of a piano reached him through the open window. And why had he felt such a strong attraction? The young man could not have known what the old man knew now: what he had seen then was his room, the one in which, when the time came, he would die.

I came out of the shower; wrapped in a towel, I walked through the whole apartment. Now I’m looking out the window, and I say: “This is not that room.”

Sanja hears me. She stands behind me, leaning her head against my wet back, and asks: “What did you say?”

Red Bandana

RED BANDANA

Somewhere in Virginia, I lost my cap.

—JOHN CAGE

Dear Son,