What if this strange silence is the true baseline? An empty screen in an empty theatre, nothing announced, and yet the projector running, light passing through the gate without any film. Muffled sounds from the street  come and go, synchronised with the dust motes floating in the bright beam. Nothing needs to change nothing needs to be explained. There is only a vague expectation, neither positive nor negative, and an equally vague memory of other such times, a dense crystalline transparency.