I. 1920

The Atlantic was black and the sky was black and the space between the ship and the stars was a black that Hunt Cavendish had never seen before because he had been flying across the ocean for six months now in a modified DH.4 with a broken radiator and a radio that worked sometimes and a compass that lied sometimes always and the black of the ocean at three thousand feet at midnight was different from the black of the land because the ocean black moved and the land black was still and the moving black made Hunt nervous in a way that moving anything made him nervous because moving things in the dark had killed three of his friends in the war and the three friends were gone and Hunt was here in the air and the air was black and the ocean was black and the stars were above everything and the stars were fixed and Hunt liked fixed things and the fixed things were the stars and the stars were going to be all that was left when the war was over and the peace was over and the prosperity was over and everything else was gone and the stars would be there and Hunt would be there too if the radiator held and the engine held and the black ocean did not rise up and take him the way it had taken his plane and his friends and the black had taken them and Hunt had not been in that plane and Hunt was here in this plane and Hunt was alive and the aliveness was a thing he did not trust because things that should not keep happening kept happening and the sky was black and the stars were fixed and Hunt liked fixed things and he flew on and the engine held and the radiator held and the black ocean did not rise and in the morning he saw land and the land was Ireland and the land was gray and the land was real and Hunt Cavendish landed at a field outside Dublin and he shut down the engine and he sat in the cockpit and he put his head in his hands and he cried and the crying was not for the three friends who were gone although it was for them it was for the aliveness that he did not trust and the stars that were still up in the daytime sky although nobody else could see them and the fixed things that were still fixed even when everything else was breaking and the crying was the sound of a man who had learned to trust only what could not move

II. 1921

Isabelle Rothschild's salon was on the rue du Faubourg Saint-Honore in Paris and the salon was full every Thursday evening and the fullness was a performance and the performance was the point and the point was the nothing and the nothing was the war that had taken Isabelle's brother and her father and her lover and her innocence and what was left was the salon and the Thursday evenings and the men in tails and the women in beading and the champagne and the painting and the music and the ideas that were not ideas because ideas require belief and belief was dangerous after the war and the dangerous thing to believe in was nothing and the nothing was what everyone believed in and the believing in the nothing was the performance and the performance was the salon and the salon was Isabelle and Isabelle was twenty-five and she was the daughter of a banker who had lost his mind and his money and his wife in the same year and what was left was the salon and the Thursday evenings and the beading and the champagne and the painting and the music and the ideas that were not ideas and the nothing that was the belief and the belief was the nothing and the nothing was beautiful and the beautiful was the lie and the lie was the truth and the truth was the nothing and the nothing was the sky and the sky was full of something that Isabelle could not name but could feel in the way she felt the champagne and the beading and the music and the painting and the fullness and the nothing and the something she could not name was there in the salon on Thursday evenings and it was in the champagne bubbles and the beading light and the music notes and the painting colors and it was in the nothing that everyone believed in and the something was getting louder and Isabelle could feel it louder every Thursday and the someone in the salon would look up at the sky sometimes between sips of champagne and drops of paint and strokes of piano keys and they would look up and they would feel it too but they would not say anything because saying anything would require words that did not exist and the words would be dangerous and the danger was the feeling and the feeling was the something and the something was the not naming and the not naming was the truth and the truth was the something in the sky and the something was getting louder and the Thursday evenings were getting shorter and the something was getting louder

III. 1922

Everett Wilson played piano at the Horseshoe Club in Harlem and the club was full on Friday nights and the fullness was music and the music was improvised and the improvisation was the point and the point was the nothing and the nothing was the train that had brought Everett from Mississippi twenty years ago and the nothing was the fields he had left and the nothing was the freedom he had found and the nothing was the music that was in him and came out of his hands and the piano and the club and the night and the music was not written it was made and the making was the improvisation and the improvisation was the nothing that the music came from and the nothing was the sky and the sky was full of something that Everett could hear in the music because Everett could hear things other people could not hear because Everett had learned to listen in the fields in Mississippi when he was a boy and the listening was the music and the music was the listening and the listening was the sky and the sky was full of something and the something had a rhythm and the rhythm was in the music and Everett put the rhythm in the music without knowing it was from the sky because you do not need to know where a rhythm comes from to play it and Everett played and the club was full and the fullness was music and the music was the rhythm and the rhythm was the sky and the sky was getting louder and the louder was the something and the something was the not knowing and the not knowing was the playing and the playing was the life and the life was the music and the music was the nothing and the nothing was the something and the something was in the sky and the something was getting louder and the Friday nights were getting shorter and the something was getting louder

IV. 1923

Dorothy Parker wrote poems and they were published in Vanity Fair and the publication was the point and the point was the nothing and the nothing was the war that had taken her brother and her faith and her belief in anything that was not ink on paper and the ink on paper was real because the ink was there and the paper was there and the words were there and the words were the only things that were real and the reality was the nothing and the nothing was the sky and the sky was full of something that Dorothy could see in the words because the words were the sky and the sky was the words and the words were getting longer and the longer was the something and the something was the not saying and the not saying was the writing and the writing was the not writing and the writing was the words and the words were the sky and the sky was getting louder and Dorothy wrote and the words were sharp and funny and sad and the sadness was the truth and the truth was the nothing and the nothing was the something and the something was in the sky and the something was getting louder and the pages were getting shorter and the something was getting louder

V. 1924

Hunt was flying across the Atlantic alone now and the plane was better and the engine was better and the radiator was better and the black ocean was still black and the stars were still fixed and Hunt still liked fixed things and the fixed things were the only things you could trust because moving things moved and broken things broke and missing things were missing and the fixed things stayed and the stars stayed and Hunt would stay too if he could and he could not and the could not was the air and the engine and the radiator and the black ocean and the not could not was the sky and the stars and the fixed things and the fixed things were going to be all that was left and Hunt liked this idea even though it was frightening even though the frightening was the not staying and the staying was the stars and the stars were fixed and Hunt would be fixed too if he could and the could was the engine and the radiator and the ocean and the could not was the sky and the stars and the fixed things and the fixed things were beautiful and the beautiful was the frightening and the frightening was the staying and the staying was the not moving and the not moving was the fixed and the fixed was the stars and the stars were getting brighter and the brighter was the something and the something was in the sky and the something was getting louder and Hunt flew on and the engine held and the radiator held and the ocean did not rise and in the morning he saw land and the land was England and the land was gray and the land was real and Hunt landed at a field outside Folkestone and he shut down the engine and he sat in the cockpit and he put his head in his hands and he was not crying this time because the crying was for the aliveness that he did not trust and the trust was the stars and the stars were fixed and Hunt was here and the here was the landing and the landing was the staying and the staying was the fixed and the fixed was the stars and the stars were getting brighter and the brighter was the something and the something was getting louder

VI. 1925

Isabelle's salon was different now. The Thursday evenings were still full and the champagne was still cold and the beading still caught the light and the painting was still being done and the music was still being played and the ideas were still not ideas because ideas were dangerous and the nothing was still the belief and the belief was still the nothing and the nothing was still beautiful and the beautiful was still the lie and the lie was still the truth and the truth was still the nothing and the nothing was the sky and the sky was full of something and the something was getting louder and the louder was the not naming and the not naming was the feeling and the feeling was the something in the sky and the something in the sky was no longer something Isabelle could feel only in the champagne and the beading and the music and the painting and the fullness and the nothing the something was getting into the words people said in the salon and the something was getting into the questions people asked over champagne and the something was getting into the silences between the piano notes and the brush strokes and the champagne bubbles and the something was in everything and the everything was the salon and the salon was Isabelle and Isabelle was getting afraid and the afraid was the knowing and the knowing was the not knowing and the not knowing was the something in the sky and the something was getting louder and the louder was the truth and the truth was the something and the something was the sky and the sky was no longer fixed and the not fixed was the moving and the moving was the something and the something was getting louder and the Thursday evenings were getting shorter and the something was getting louder

VII. 1926

Everett heard it first in the music. Not with his ears. With his hands. His hands on the piano keys and the keys were moving under his fingers and the movement was the rhythm and the rhythm was different now and the different was the something and the something was in the rhythm and the rhythm was in the sky and the sky was getting louder and Everett played and the club was full and the fullness was music and the music was the rhythm and the rhythm was different and the different was the something and the something was the sky and the something was getting louder and Everett could not play it out because the something was in the rhythm and the rhythm was the music and the music was the playing and the playing was the life and the life was the something and the something was in the sky and the something was getting louder and the Friday nights were getting shorter and Everett played on and the something was getting louder and the something was a signal and the signal was from somewhere and the somewhere was not here and the not here was the sky and the sky was full of something and the something was getting louder and the louder was the not playing and the not playing was the listening and the listening was the rhythm and the rhythm was in the sky and the sky was getting louder and Everett listened and the something was getting louder and the louder was the knowing and the knowing was the not knowing and the not knowing was the music and the music was the life and the life was the something and the something was in the sky and the sky was no longer fixed and the not fixed was the moving and the moving was the something and the something was getting louder

VIII. 1927

Dorothy wrote a story and the story was about a woman who looked at the sky and the sky looked back and the looking back was the something and the something was getting louder and the louder was the not writing and the not writing was the silence and the silence was the words and the words were the sky and the sky was full of something and the something was getting louder and the louder was the truth and the truth was the nothing and the nothing was the something and the something was the sky and the sky was no longer fixed and the not fixed was the moving and the moving was the something and the something was getting louder and Dorothy wrote and the story was published in Vanity Fair and the publication was the point and the point was the nothing and the nothing was the something and the something was getting louder and the louder was the not reading and the not reading was the looking and the looking was the sky and the sky was getting louder and the pages were getting shorter and the something was getting louder

Isabelle stopped having Thursday evenings. Not because the salons stopped being full. They were more full than ever. The fullness was a defense and the defense was the something in the sky and the something was getting louder and the louder was the not performing and the not performing was the feeling and the feeling was the something and the something was in the sky and the something was getting louder and Isabelle felt it in the champagne and the beading and the music and the painting and the words and the silences and the questions and the answers and the not answers and the something was in everything and the everything was the salon and the salon was Isabelle and Isabelle was getting afraid and the afraid was the knowing and the knowing was the something in the sky and the something was no longer something you could feel only and the something was something you could hear and the hearing was the not speaking and the not speaking was the listening and the listening was the something and the something was getting louder and the louder was the truth and the truth was the something and the something was the sky and the sky was no longer fixed and the not fixed was the moving and the moving was the something and the something was getting louder and the Thursday evenings stopped and the something was getting louder and the louder was the not stopping and the not stopping was the something and the something was in the sky and the sky was getting louder and Isabelle looked at the sky and the sky was no longer beautiful and the not beautiful was the real and the real was the something and the something was getting louder

IX. 1928

Hunt was flying higher now and the plane was better and the engine was stronger and the radiator was better than ever and the black ocean was still black and the stars were still up and the stars were no longer fixed and the not fixed was the moving and the moving was the something and the something was in the sky and the something was getting louder and the louder was the not flying and the not flying was the listening and the listening was the something and the something was getting louder and Hunt heard it one night at three thousand feet over the middle of the Atlantic and the hearing was the not hearing and the not hearing was the knowing and the knowing was the something and the something was in the sky and the something was getting louder and the louder was the truth and the truth was the something and the something was the sky and the sky was no longer fixed and the not fixed was the moving and the moving was the something and the something was getting louder and Hunt flew on and the engine held and the radiator held and the ocean did not rise and in the morning he saw land and the land was America and the land was gray and the land was real and Hunt landed at a field outside Newfoundland and he shut down the engine and he sat in the cockpit and he put his head in his hands and he was not crying and he was not not crying and the not not crying was the something and the something was in the sky and the something was getting louder and the louder was the knowing and the knowing was the something and the something was the sky and the sky was no longer fixed and the not fixed was the moving and the moving was the something and the something was getting louder and Hunt got out of the plane and the ground was under his feet and the ground was fixed and the fixed was the ground and the ground was real and the real was the something and the something was in the sky and the something was getting louder and Hunt walked away from the plane and the walking was the not staying and the not staying was the moving and the moving was the something and the something was getting louder and the louder was the life and the life was the something and the something was in the sky and the sky was no longer fixed and Hunt walked and the ground was fixed and the fixed things were not all gone and the not all gone was the something and the something was getting louder

X. 1929

The crash was on a Thursday in October and the crash was the market and the crash was the end and the end was the beginning and the beginning was the nothing and the nothing was the sky and the sky was full of something and the something was getting louder and the louder was the not caring and the not caring was the universe and the universe was the something and the something was in the sky and the sky was no longer fixed and the not fixed was the moving and the moving was the crash and the crash was the market and the market was the end and the end was the beginning and the beginning was the something and the something was getting louder and the louder was the not stopping and the not stopping was the something and the something was in the sky and the sky was getting louder and the louder was the end and the end was the beginning and the beginning was the something and the something was getting louder and the getting louder was the not silence and the not silence was the music and the music was the something and the something was in the sky and the sky was getting louder and the louder was the everything and the everything was the something and the something was getting louder and the louder was the end of everything and the end of everything was the beginning of the something and the something was getting louder and the louder was the not end and the not end was the something and the something was in the sky and the sky was getting louder and the louder was the everything and the everything was the nothing and the nothing was the something and the something was getting louder and the louder was the elegance of the collapse and the collapse was the era and the era was the something and the something was getting louder and the louder was the not dancing and the not dancing was the music and the music was the something and the something was in the sky and the sky was getting louder

Hunt was in a hospital in Chicago when the crash happened and the hospital was full of men who had been in the war and the war was over and the over was the not over and the not over was the something and the something was in the sky and the something was getting louder and the louder was the not sleeping and the not sleeping was the listening and the listening was the something and the something was getting louder and Hunt lay in the hospital bed and he looked at the ceiling and the ceiling was fixed and the fixed was the ceiling and the ceiling was real and the real was the something and the something was in the sky and the something was getting louder and the louder was the knowing and the knowing was the something and the something was the sky and the sky was no longer fixed and the not fixed was the moving and the moving was the something and the something was getting louder and Hunt looked at the ceiling and the ceiling was fixed and the fixed things were still there and the still there was the something and the something was getting louder and the louder was the life and the life was the something and the something was in the sky and the sky was getting louder and Hunt closed his eyes and the closing was the not seeing and the not seeing was the listening and the listening was the something and the something was getting louder and the louder was the end and the end was the beginning and the beginning was the something and the something was in the sky and the sky was getting louder and the louder was the everything and the everything was the nothing and the nothing was the something and the something was getting louder

Isabelle was in Paris and the salon was empty and the empty was the not full and the not full was the something and the something was in the sky and the something was getting louder and the louder was the not singing and the not singing was the silence and the silence was the music and the music was the something and the something was getting louder and Isabelle sat in the empty salon and she looked at the painting she had been working on for three years and the painting was of the sky and the sky in the painting was no longer the beautiful sky and the not beautiful sky was the real sky and the real sky was the something and the something was getting louder and the louder was the not painting and the not painting was the looking and the looking was the sky and the sky was getting louder and Isabelle looked at the sky and the sky was no longer fixed and the not fixed was the moving and the moving was the something and the something was getting louder and Isabelle was twenty-eight and the something was getting louder and the louder was the end and the end was the beginning and the beginning was the something and the something was in the sky and the sky was getting louder and Isabelle picked up a brush and she painted and the painting was the sky and the sky was the something and the something was getting louder and the louder was the not stopping and the not stopping was the painting and the painting was the something and the something was in the sky and the sky was getting louder and the something was getting louder and the louder was the elegance of the end and the end was the beginning and the beginning was the something and the something was in the sky and the sky was getting louder

Everett was in Harlem and the Horseshoe Club was empty and the empty was the not full and the not full was the something and the something was in the sky and the something was getting louder and the louder was the not playing and the not playing was the listening and the listening was the something and the something was getting louder and Everett sat at the piano in the empty club and his hands were on the keys and the keys were still and the still was the not moving and the not moving was the something and the something was in the sky and the something was getting louder and the louder was the not playing and the not playing was the listening and the listening was the something and the something was getting louder and Everett put his hands on the keys and he played and the music was the rhythm and the rhythm was the sky and the sky was full of something and the something was getting louder and the louder was the not stopping and the not stopping was the playing and the playing was the music and the music was the something and the something was getting louder and Everett played and the club was empty and the empty was full and the full was the something and the something was in the sky and the sky was getting louder and the louder was the elegance of the music and the music was the end and the end was the beginning and the beginning was the something and the something was in the sky and the sky was getting louder and the louder was the everything and the everything was the nothing and the nothing was the something and the something was getting louder and Everett played and the something was getting louder and the louder was the not end and the not end was the something and the something was in the sky and the sky was getting louder and the louder was the music and the music was the something and the something was getting louder and the something was getting louder and the louder was the playing and the playing was the life and the life was the something and the something was in the sky and the sky was getting louder

Dorothy was in New York and the Vanity Fair offices were empty and the empty was the not full and the not full was the something and the something was in the sky and the something was getting louder and the louder was the not writing and the not writing was the looking and the looking was the sky and the sky was getting louder and Dorothy sat at her desk and she looked at the page and the page was white and the white was the not written and the not written was the something and the something was in the sky and the something was getting louder and the louder was the not writing and the not writing was the writing and the writing was the something and the something was getting louder and Dorothy picked up a pen and she wrote and the words were the sky and the sky was the something and the something was getting louder and the louder was the not stopping and the not stopping was the writing and the writing was the words and the words were the sky and the sky was getting louder and Dorothy wrote and the page was full and the full was the something and the something was in the sky and the sky was getting louder and the louder was the elegance of the words and the words were the end and the end was the beginning and the beginning was the something and the something was in the sky and the sky was getting louder and the louder was the everything and the everything was the nothing and the nothing was the something and the something was getting louder and Dorothy wrote and the something was getting louder and the louder was the not end and the not end was the something and the something was in the sky and the sky was getting louder and the louder was the words and the words were the something and the something was getting louder and the something was getting louder and the louder was the writing and the writing was the life and the life was the something and the something was in the sky and the sky was getting louder

XI. 1929

The something was getting louder and the louder was the not silence and the not silence was the music and the music was the something and the something was in the sky and the sky was getting louder and the louder was the everything and the everything was the nothing and the nothing was the something and the something was getting louder and the louder was the end and the end was the beginning and the beginning was the something and the something was in the sky and the sky was getting louder and the louder was the elegance of the collapse and the collapse was the era and the era was the something and the something was getting louder and the louder was the not dancing and the not dancing was the music and the music was the something and the something was getting louder and the something was getting louder and the louder was the not stopping and the not stopping was the music and the music was the something and the something was in the sky and the sky was getting louder and the something was getting louder and the louder was the playing and the playing was the life and the life was the something and the something was in the sky and the sky was getting louder and the something was getting louder and the louder was the writing and the writing was the life and the life was the something and the something was in the sky and the sky was getting louder and the something was getting louder and the louder was the looking and the looking was the sky and the sky was getting louder and the something was getting louder and the louder was the listening and the listening was the something and the something was in the sky and the sky was getting louder and the something was getting louder and the louder was the flying and the flying was the life and the life was the something and the something was in the sky and the sky was getting louder and the something was getting louder and the louder was the painting and the painting was the sky and the sky was the something and the something was getting louder and the something was getting louder and the louder was the elegance and the elegance was the end and the end was the beginning and the beginning was the something and the something was in the sky and the sky was getting louder and the something was getting louder and the louder was the everything and the everything was the nothing and the nothing was the something and the something was getting louder and the something was getting louder and the louder was the not end and the not end was the something and the something was in the sky and the sky was getting louder and the something was getting louder and the louder was the not silence and the not silence was the music and the music was the something and the something was in the sky and the sky was getting louder and the something was getting louder and the louder was the life and the life was the something and the something was in the sky and the sky was getting louder and the something was getting louder and the louder was the dignity and the dignity was the not stopping and the not stopping was the something and the something was in the sky and the sky was getting louder and the something was getting louder and the louder was the choosing and the choosing was the not choosing and the not choosing was the something and the something was in the sky and the sky was getting louder and the something was getting louder and the louder was the life and the life was the choosing and the choosing was the something and the something was in the sky and the sky was getting louder and the something was getting louder and the louder was the everything and the everything was the nothing and the nothing was the something and the something was getting louder and the something was getting louder

the sky was getting louder and the louder was the not end and the not end was the something and the something was in the sky and the sky was getting louder and the louder was the music and the music was the something and the something was getting louder and the something was getting louder and the end was the beginning and the beginning was the something and the something was in the sky and the sky was getting louder and the louder was the everything and the everything was the nothing and the nothing was the something and the something was getting louder and the something was getting louder and the louder was the dignity and the dignity was the choosing and the choosing was the living and the living was the something and the something was in the sky and the sky was getting louder and the something was getting louder and the louder was the not silence and the not silence was the music and the music was the something and the something was getting louder and the something was getting louder and the louder was the playing and the playing was the life and the life was the something and the something was in the sky and the sky was getting louder and the something was getting louder and the louder was the writing and the writing was the life and the life was the something and the something was in the sky and the sky was getting louder and the something was getting louder and the louder was the looking and the looking was the sky and the sky was getting louder and the something was getting louder and the louder was the flying and the flying was the life and the life was the something and the something was in the sky and the sky was getting louder and the something was getting louder and the louder was the painting and the painting was the sky and the sky was the something and the something was getting louder and the something was getting louder and the louder was the elegance and the elegance was the not stopping and the not stopping was the something and the something was in the sky and the sky was getting louder and the something was getting louder and the louder was everything and everything was nothing and nothing was the something and the something was in the sky and the sky was getting louder and the something was getting louder and the louder was the not end and the not end was the beginning and the beginning was the something and the something was in the sky and the sky was getting louder and the something was getting louder and the louder was the dignity and the dignity was the choosing and the choosing was the living and the living was the something and the something was in the sky and the sky was getting louder and the something was getting louder and the louder was the music and the music was the playing and the playing was the life and the life was the something and the something was in the sky and the sky was getting louder and the something was getting louder and the louder was the writing and the writing was the words and the words were the sky and the sky was the something and the something was getting louder and the something was getting louder and the louder was the looking and the looking was the sky and the sky was getting louder and the something was getting louder and the louder was the flying and the flying was the staying and the staying was the fixed and the fixed was the something and the something was in the sky and the sky was getting louder and the something was getting louder and the louder was the painting and the painting was the sky and the sky was the something and the something was getting louder and the something was getting louder and the louder was the everything and everything was the nothing and the nothing was the something and the something was getting louder and the something was getting louder and the louder was the not end and the not end was the beginning and the beginning was the something and the something was in the sky and the sky was getting louder and the something was getting louder and the louder was the dignity and the dignity was the choosing and the choosing was the living and the living was the something and the something was in the sky and the sky was getting louder and the something was getting louder and the louder was the music and the music was the playing and the playing was the life and the life was the something and the something was in the sky and the sky was getting louder and the something was getting louder and the louder was the not silence and the not silence was the something and the something was in the sky and the sky was getting louder

the something was getting louder and the louder was the not end and the not end was the beginning and the beginning was the something and the something was in the sky and the sky was getting louder