Empty. Anything on this page with a line under it, and every piece on its stage, can be picked up.
Kept in this browser.
The room · the door left open
The room, from the landing
Whoever came in before left the door open behind them, and nobody in the room got up to shut it. What it leaves is a room that reads from the landing, with nobody asked to come in.
Two knocks at a door in Ossel mean a person. A door already open means the knock was answered a while ago and the room carried on without minding.
What an opening leaves in Ossel is a ring on the wet road, for as long as it takes the water to close over it. What it leaves here is a draught, and the light off the landing across the floorboards.
01 · Ivory heavyweight crew · XS–XXL
The Kneel Crew
I only kneel where the floor is worth it.
400 gsm loopback cotton, undyed, so the ivory is the cloth and not a dye. Dropped shoulder, ribbed neck and cuff, body long enough to sit down in.
The line prints across the back at full width, in aubergine, at the size a person reads from the other side of a room. At the left chest, 12 mm: the arch, MERCY ROOM, and NEGUSTOLONOW under it.
At a bus stop it is a remark about standards. The other reading needs a floor, and somebody already on it.
Sewn inside, in gentian thread
Hand here.Inside the back neck, 6 mm, where the size label would go. It is only true in that one spot, and whoever is reading it is already standing there.
Room for two fingers.Inside the cuff, 4 mm, running round the wrist. It is the real check for whether a cuff is too tight.
220 gsm cotton, garment-dyed and then washed until the black has gone grey along the seams. Boxy, short sleeve, a neck that has already been pulled about.
The line sits high on the back in ivory, above where a collar would cover it, so it is legible with a jacket on.
Everyone in the queue reads it as a line about manners, and everyone in the queue is right.
Sewn inside, in gentian thread
Hand here.Inside the back neck, 6 mm. Every garment in this room carries it.
Put me back how you found me.Inside the hem, 5 mm, running the full width, so it is read by whoever is pulling the shirt off somebody.
Woven aubergine ground, ivory satin stitch, merrow edge, a blush running stitch set in from it. NEGUSTOLONOW above in 5 mm. The arch below is the door.
There is an iron-on backing and nobody should trust it. Sew it on.
Nothing is hidden on it. A patch is all outside, which is why the manners are on the front.
Its siblings, not made
Say mercy.The same rectangle, said by the other person.
Not yet.The answer. Sold apart from it, and each one works with nothing beside it.
14 oz cotton canvas, undyed, bib and skirt cut in one piece. Two deep pockets at the front, because whoever is running the room is the one carrying the cloth and the water.
The ties are long enough to wrap and knot at the front, and they are meant to be done up behind by the other person. Getting it on takes two people and so does getting it off.
The front mark is the wordmark and nothing else, with the last three letters in gentian. The back print is the line above. There is a second line arguing for the same spot, You can fire me from down there., and it has not lost yet.
When it is photographed it will be on somebody over forty, mid-task, back turned.
Sewn inside, in gentian thread
On loan.Inside the waistband, 6 mm, read only by whoever unties it.
Loan ends when I say.Inside the waistband of the other garment, worn by the one who handed the apron over. The two waistbands are a contract and each party has the other’s clause on them.
Found in the apron pocket · one leaf, ruled, pencil
A note, folded twice
Ro —
Apron’s on the hook and washed, so it’s yours again from six. The strings are damp because I did the pans first. Tie it yourself until I’m back; you know I like doing it and I’m not going to be here.
Thursday: I’m not sorry about Thursday and you needn’t be either. If you start being careful with me about it I’ll have the thing off you and do the pans myself for a week, and then where will you be.
There’s soup. It’s the one you don’t like. Eat it standing up like an animal, nobody’s watching.
Back by nine. The bin goes out Tuesday and you forgot last Tuesday.
— B.
The apron is worn by whoever is running the room. It belongs to the person who handed it over.
The bench · line one · not cut
Line one
We deserve our pleasure. With: You first.
Aubergine on a heavyweight crew. The first line across the back at full width, read from the other side of a room; the second at the left chest, 12 mm, read by one person at a time.
It was said at a door at Km 598, at nine at night, and Ossel entered it in a docket the same night.
The bench · line two · not cut
Line two
You can fire me from down there.
Canvas chore jacket, across the back yoke, where a jacket usually carries the name of a firm.
It argues with the apron’s own line for the apron’s back print, and the argument was never settled.
The bench · line three · not cut
Line three
Tuck me in, you animal.
Long-sleeve sleep tee, washed black, the line large across the back, where nobody reads it but the person doing the tucking.
It was said lying down, which is why it was put on the one garment that only gets worn lying down.
The bench · line four · not cut
Line four
I know the word. And: Keep going.
Small at the chest and large on the back: the first half admitted quietly, the second half at the size of a room.
Both halves go on one tee, because apart they mean something else entirely.
The bench · line five · not cut
Line five
Bad knees. Good reasons.
Heavy sweatpants, the line set above the left knee, where it lands at eye level on whoever is lower down.
It was written for the person who kneels and gets up slowly afterwards, and it excuses neither half of that.
The bench · line six · not cut
Line six
Sit. Stay. Drink your water.
Long-sleeve tee, back, the line broken into stacked lines, each one short enough to read from behind.
The last of them is the only one that ever gets obeyed.
The bench · line seven · not cut
Line seven
I have a complaint. And: You stopped.
Ivory crew: the complaint small and centred at the front, the reason for it large across the back.
Whoever reads the front gets the complaint. Whoever reads the back already knows what was done.
The bench · line eight · not cut
Line eight
Say mercy. And: Not yet.
Two squares, merrowed the same, sold apart so that neither one waits on the other.
Not yet is Ossel’s answer for a thing held up. It was said once at Km 286, to a chair, and written down the same morning.
The bench · line nine · not cut
Line nine
All my eggs in one bastard.
Washed black tee, across the back, set at the size the Kneel Crew prints, so that the two read as a pair from across a room.
It was written on the bench and left there.
The shelf · Shelf 01 · sculpted, not printed
VOID
A flat form curved round an opening, 57.5 × 71.7 × 8.5 mm in the file. The opening is the whole of it: a cord goes through, and the form hangs off the cord.
Nothing was written on it, and nothing was added afterwards. It was sculpted in the next room, where the writing does not reach.
