Wires loop and coil on my bedroom floor, and the head of the machine goes under and through - seeking out signals, tuning me like a radio. ‘What have you found?’ It talks in currents and jolts that summon images from the graves of my mind, and ushers them to my eyes where they parade themselves a carnival in the night, waves of faces I know balanced on bodies I don’t. ‘Where have they gone?’ It winds its way round my spine peeling off to enter my heart and makes me feel it all again.