The Table Ritual took place once a month, when the red jar inside her mother’s belly emptied. His father, linear time, his sister, the white conscience, him, the black one. They tried to keep the white and black in balance inside the table, or something could happen in the city. Nadir was having trouble concentrating on everything that could go wrong so that his sister could counteract it, and so white was winning ground. Underneath the table, Nadir began to believe he could be something more than what his family expected from him. Graphite on paper.