Happy not to be laying black eggs anymore, the duck wandered the desert and encountered Pim and Bim.

The duck, on whom distribution had been laid, laid its final black egg, rendering “Sonnets for Clarice” a finite edition.

Pim and Bim came upon a television wherein Clarice was being interviewed about the Sonnets.

Visitors to the Archive wanted one text only: Sonnets for Clarice. You’ll recall that Clive had made them an index for the archive itself.

The Motel diner hosted sparse parties who spoke in low tones under low light. Slim found not Mr. Love but rather the WDA. Seated alone.

Defeated by Mrs. Love, Mr. Love checked into a motor hotel in the desert where he attempted to lose himself in satellite TV.

Under the fluorescent light of her highly secure residence, Mrs. Love chuckled over the viral distribution Mr. Love’s oeuvre.

The Sonnets proliferated. Everyone was reading them except Clarice. And now Mr. Love was famous. His worst nightmare.

Continuing through the desert Pim and Bim came upon a crop of black eggs, each hatching a set of Sonnets for Clarice bound in sisal twine.

To their surprise (and ours) the egg cracked open to reveal a familiar text, one whose power was becoming increasingly dark and strange.