Your desk is honest. A glass vase is balanced on a stack of unread papers to keep them from scattering in the night breeze from your open window. The vase has no lip. Its neck curves back into its belly. Inside-out, or outside-in. You're not sure there's a meaningful difference. You bought it at an estate sale and the seller said it was decorative, and it may be the most accurate thing in this building. You could explain but you'd have to use your hands and you're typing right now. Your phone keeps ringing and you keep ignoring it. Through your window you can see the part of the city that fits inside the windowframe. The rest of the city is still happening too. The air smells like rain and exhaust, but you can't see any vehicles.