The sheet drops and suddenly all is dusk. What was supposed to be there is not. Confusion, yes. Betrayal? Of a concept, an idea, tenuous, tangible? Confusion. A glass held up to the light – a hairline crack – a smear, rainbowed light. A recognition of needs. Honesty, deception, a muddling through. A patch in the woods, just dirt. A leap of faith at the edge of the cliff. A game. A mistake. Confusion. But what of one’s self? A rumination too lengthy and aged to be believed. Objectivity awry: a lack of perspective, a story retold in a different way. A new spin – a new outlook – a new lie. Bewilderment, denial, joy. Fractured amazement; a scattering of tales with a smattering of truth. A new chapter and a long way home. The end of an era. Confusion, always.