We listened to Io Echo, to Ioanna Gika and Leopold Ross, and we were washed asunder. We were gone. Our bodies were nowhere to be found. They washed up nowhere. They were just happily taken by the sea and kept by the sea. It's probably okay because those bodies were just being borrowed anyway. We were going to have to give them back sometime, so why not in a way that felt like drifting, that felt like a spell had been put on them and no one felt when life and movement had separated from them and they were just dead weight sinking, sinking, sinking, down to the bottom, with all the other sunken ships and the old, discarded dishwashers. It was great to go so peacefully, without a trace, just mysteriously missing from all the tables that we used to sit at, from all the places that we were normally seen around. We just aren't here any more. We're elsewhere.