What’s happening to the tea and the sugar? They’re vanishing. The cups are vanishing. Vanishing the saucers, and the table and chairs, into the invisible, the overlight wideness. Where will we sit when the chairs are gone, and where will we eat when the table is gone? Vanishing the parking lots, and the cars with their rusted underbellies. Vanishing the yellow lines, and the road signs. Where will we go and how will we steer when the cars are gone, the trains abandoned along the tracks like empty skins?