1. Despite having been a teen mom on the streets, Clio was only now coming to terms with the infinite sadness and cruelty in the world. Life, which had once been so perilous, was desperate in ways she had not before considered; it was hard to say which was more frightening: the practical or the conceptual.
2. To be optimistic seemed naive . . . or did it? She could not imagine life without the hazy, ephemeral beauty of hope.
3. Sometimes she felt jealous of the garden, whose plants -- and specifically the campanula -- seemed to flower without any thought of their imminent demise.
4. The night garden, where strings of lights now lit up the sky, offered even more fear and more comfort. It was, she realized as she considered the artificial stars, how she pictured death.
5. One of her 'owners,' who constantly complained about his sore hamstring (but at least managed to run 36 miles this week), went out into the larger world, where he brought back images of an even-bigger garden.
6. He complained about so much. Apparently, on this run, the camera had jumped out of his pocket and landed face down, smashing its screen. "I've run hundreds of miles with this camera in my pocket," he said. "Why now?" Clio nodded ambiguously and thought about it. "Why does anything ever happen?"
7. Apparently, the park was filled with annoying pedestrians walking their dogs on twenty-five foot leashes. A group of children, armed with swords, gave chase as Clio's 'owner' passed them. "Lay down your swords, loud things," said the 'owner' (to himself). "For you will not catch me, even when I am hobbled by this tender hamstring." Clio could not understand why these children were not also on leashes. Actually, she did understand. "The world is not a fair place."
8. The smashed screen cost $119 (including tax) to repair. "What is money?" asked Clio. "And how much is enough?" It was a question that seemed to get at the crux of the 'national conversation' yet was rarely asked with any precision. "If these Senators already live in castles," she asked, "is it necessary to paint their gates in gold leaf?"
9. Meanwhile, a mysterious box containing 'books' had arrived. The 'owner' was pleased about something, for once. "You see how nice it looks with the french flaps and the beautiful cover?" he asked Clio. "And it feels substantial. It's a good size. It's almost five hundred pages long!" But then he returned to his usual state of anxiety. "Do you think anyone will read it?"
10. "Probably not," said Elektra, who had pre-ordered a copy from the publisher's web site, just to get the 'owner' to stop badgering her about it all the time.
11. "But if it looks good on the shelf, maybe that's all that matters," she mused, and -- for a little while -- everyone went to sleep.