6:01

Time release. Measure for measure, the edges give way throughout the day. That’s biochem poetry, he thinks, the cat in the corner entering the last stages of acute renal failure. He’d like to do fiction. Where’s the profit otherwise? He could send people on errands. Go down to the corner for a phone card, beer and pomelo. Words to infiltrate the fibers of things over time into minds. The cat in the wicker case, dying beneath his moth-eaten sweater. The Realist comes home to the world she created. The Fabulist rests. The case closes. The cat passes. The other cat in heat. Cab ride to the vet. Too late for euthanasia, it's “public cremation” now. The perfect text to release minds over time. Baby wakes.