Gauraa Shekhar drives us in circles for an hour, across Oakwood, Blackwell, Bellemeade, but there’s no sign of smoke, no blazing light. Bryn Dodson is in a palace with no exit, the sole and honored guest. Nicole Lynn Cohen carries the boy across the overgrown field. Moshkur Ajikobi laments, "Mama didn't read our fortune well." Brianna Flavin has us laughing with friends threaded in the sapwarmth of bourbon, wiping rain from our eyes. Nathan Alling Long leads us to a boulder in the woods behind his house, but when we sit on it, it is a throne. Eleanor Johnson's father finds her searching in the neighbor's tree. Mercury-Marvin Sunderland admits us to the psych ward, where they check our heart rates. Meghan Sterling's cat ignores us and sleeps on, refusing to yield to beginning all over again. D.S. Maolalai brings us to the center of life and of Dublin. Melissa Darcey Hall looks into the pond with us, and the fish stare back, unaltered. Brandon Amico watches Kendall Jenner lift a can of Pepsi in front of her, offering a cop the pressurized soft drink. Jessica Treadway has a habit to unlearn while S.E. Reed's hands wake the surface, like an unmoored skiff. Jesse Breite watches a boy grow smaller at his desk.