On the gridiron plaza beneath the towers of Nichtil, a man walks around the cracks and the puddles in the pavement. Beneath him, weeds sprout in lines and patches, sometimes crossing the tiles like tributaries, other times following their orderly edges like canals. From a skyway he is seen by a woman. She can see that he is playing a game, toying with the broken frames and vistas, finding in the gridiron expanse slight disruptions that excite him. In spring, exalted sunflowers will burst through the cracks, only to be whacked and plucked and chopped before the onslaught of summer.