They are like shadows, as if they were not born of women, and their entire existence and actions seem to be put together in a chaotic manner, without beginning or end... Then a ghostly legend sprang to life in the hidden remnants of my subconscious - the legend of the mannequins: long ago, a rabbi who was skilled in Kabbalah created this existence using basic substances, and gave it unconscious, automatized life by placing a magical formula behind its teeth. And just as the mystical letters were removed from the mannequin's mouth and it immediately turned back into inert clay, I imagined that all of us would collapse into material at the moment our brains were erased of some tiny thing - perhaps a fleeting thought, a trivial ambition, an insignificant habit in some, or merely a vague and undefined yearning in others.