An injured bird has been resting in a box in my studio, but I'm too afraid to check in on it because I don't want the bird to be dead. While I'm not looking, my cat kicks down the door and pounces on the box. The cat turns into my daughter and then back into the cat. The bird turns into my daughter who has now been smothered to death by my cat's paws. Later, I'm sitting in a cafe with some friends and strangers. I try to drink my coffee and have a conversation, but images of my dead daughter consume me. The coffee in my mouth becomes salty from too many tears.
