There is no other side to my room. Like the moon, there is a layer of fine dirt that never moves. There are jars of unidentified substances sitting where they are supposed to be.

I don’t remember why I put them there but apparently, I did.

Apparently, I arranged them and then rearranged them and arranged them again.

Apparently, I have been making jam and juices. Pickling anything I find.

Apparently, I have been setting molds making smells and hearing instructions.

Apparently, I have been nesting in the mornings and gathering in the evenings.

Apparently, I have lived here before and live here now.

There is a deserted level that has been empty of movement so long that the lights are off. Maybe this is where I slept. There were two of each of everything. Swimmers, walkers, flyers. Starfish beetles bats lions bears and birds.

I don’t remember why I put them there but apparently, I did.

Apparently, I arranged them and then rearranged them and arranged them again.

Apparently, I have been petting fur and clipping nails. Stuffing anything I find.

Apparently, I have been defining species making labels and hearing instructions.

Apparently, I have been nesting in the mornings and gathering in the evenings.

Apparently, I have lived here before and live here now.