Zero Visibility

I don't understand the Artemis story well enough to appreciate it but Tom says the dancers are clever and I'm prepared to believe him. In the middle, they tell the story anyway, in spoken words. I want her to stop speaking, and for the curtain to be pulled across. Gina says that the dogs would have known not to eat him because he wouldn't have smelled like a deer. I doubt this.

During the performance the woman next to us takes out a sandwich and starts eating it. She holds a piece of paper up in front of her mouth so that the dancers can't see her eating. Instead they will just wonder why that woman is shielding her face with a piece of paper, and of course that will be less distracting. Logic is subjective.

On the way home four mounted police cross the intersection and head up the hill towards the Hollywood. I think: don't let them jog, they either walk or trot. The horse is the motif for the week. There was only one horse, really, at Flemington. Four horses passing the shops of artfully designed furniture, and Pegasus on my chest.