I think about Remake when I read a ramble by Bashka, then look at the shadow of a smokestack and a cloud pattern of a dried up pool on the garage roof. Somebody whistles, a bird I think. I'm still thinking of Remake. Like, what happens in life, and when somebody exits abruptly. Maybe I shouldn't say much about Remake, as it's about what you think, watching it. Whatever we're in is reality.