Walking on the Ceiling

by Aysegül Savas

When the world was listed item by item, one-time events became routines, a story of the way things had always been. This, too, was the pleasure of the inventory, the shortest memories drawn out to stand in for the regularity of everyday lives.

Apollodorus, from whose work only two lines of poetry survived. (Who at such a time / has come to the edge of the doorway?)

“I’ll cross the city unspooling our invisible thread,” he said. “Hold tight to the other end.”