It is June 2017 and I'm writing a thesis on Italo Calvino's Invisible Cities. It's a novel in which words and sentences are conditional. In one glance, they solidify and signify. In the next, they relax into shapelessness. Sometimes I materialise patterns of images, references, dialogue, mapping a route through the novel toward an answer. Invariably, new information topples the interpretation I am building, and my understanding is deferred until tomorrow and beyond. I feel like the character of Marco Polo, when he speaks of a city named Tamara.'