Slide the TV remote through the sheets till it fell through cracks never to be discovered again which meant silence had to peek and peel layers through and through of the slits between walls of homes all screwed. Like a neighbouring chest of drawers full of trinkets and all. I wonder what the bodies are doing while I stay up. I muddle through the must to find a way to get back what I’ve lost behind the stairs. It’s underneath all the supplies there’s piles of it. So I have to get a handy tool to wind out of there. So I pick my grabber up and fist in the hole grasp it shut with the slender fingers to put it back where it belongs. In my hands using my voice I play the songs on the tv with the remote, back to where it was.