[This is a crit presentation]
I have to tell you about Nena. I should not hide her anymore.
From the sack of one hundred eggs, there hurtled into the world one hundred children.
Roaming through my existence, now it is stuck between my fingers and I wonder.
It's me haunting my own house. I'll wash the dishes but instead, I'd like to break them all one by one. I hear footsteps, breadcrumbs, the crackling of the pipes. Even the walls are howling...