you are in brooklyn, no, not that brooklyn. we are talking about the real brooklyn that you can never fully know. concrete, cars, people, and places form an abstract pattern of unruly democracy. like an islamic tile if such a thing could be ugly. in this brooklyn, in a tiny garage, reside monumental pictures of otherwise imperceptible details. you are also in gilgo beach and it's bright. you are also alice, but you are not in wonderland. you have not grown small but the impressions you are confronted with are overwhelming you. "don't just do something, stand there... uh... no no! go go! go get my gloves!", you might hear the white rabbit saying. well, you might not need gloves, but you will need yours powers of perception as there is a murder to be solved. maybe, if you look long enough, close enough, you just might discover what happened that night.