He goes into the cellar and the light is already on. Either someone left it on all night, or he left it on for 24 hours, or there was a burglar who turned on the light and thought, nothing worth stealing here, just a bunch of seeds and papers and a broken accordion, or the light turned itself on, as lights sometimes do, especially around the Day of the Dead.
The moon was full last night. He lights candles. He lights every candle he can find and sits amids the seeds and tries to position the candles so that they don’t set anything on fire. He sits amidst the seeds and writes something. First he finds some pens, he has to look all over the room because he can’t recall what box they were in or where he put the box.
For future reference: the box is under the desk.
Looking for pens, he finds his aunt’s obituary in a drawer full of knives.
Also the box his field recorder came in. Now all he has to find is the field recorder itself. Maybe it’s in the box, he didn’t look inside because he was 1) looking for pens and 2) thinks he looked in the box once already and no field recorder.
The moon was full last night so it should be fairly full tonight, when the spirits are out. He resolves to light extra candles.
It’s foggy, a little foggy. Cold and the world is still. Still and waiting.
He thinks about playing dice.