The beat of the metronome was in each of them. They were erect and impenetrable. One replaced another and then another as they forged passed one another guarding their corners; looking straight ahead.
Then the sun came out. These figures slowed down to a halt, looked around them as if for the first time and waited. Then it begun to happen. They begun slowly to melt.
Light shone off surfaces ringing out colours that hummed in the air and merged with one another.
Then the figures began to hum. And out of this came the thin growing pitches which arranged themselves into the word-sounds, Man and Woman.
Whenever the sun goes in the words become separated once again from their sounds like cold pebbles washed up out of moving water. So then there is nothing of value to speak of anymore until again the sun comes out.
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