A small black cat wakes in the box in which it was carried to a dump and makes its way home through the drains. The only change in the divine realm is that there is no longer anyone or anything guarding the gates of the dead. — 'Downpayment on a Catastrophe' The simplest of places that at every moment confronts with fresh ambiguities: 'The world's yard': is it a tree-lined garden where children are playing? or the yard where a yardarm is erected, the executioner's noose always dangling? or the boneyard where heretic and believer lie side by side to whisper their shared confidences? 'Carnivorous laughter filters through the woods.' Isn't it always so?''