Two

Minimal dance in the midst of strangers, seemingly nonexistent little movements of the crowd being led by invisible strings above it. These strings are the rhythm and the time, and together they rule the floor like the Pantocrator. This is all only a dream of some kind of unity, as we do everything alone - we sleep alone, we read alone, we dance alone. Some boundaries seem to be impossible to cross, but we always should seek to stretch or break them.