Here it is, the last visual stop for Loss Of Life. The caboose is loose. The brain waves goodbye, components start breaking down. The smoke dissipates. Now the streets are empty. Now the streets are full. What is meant by all of this? When all is not and everything is still, everything moves. “The tears of the world are a constant quantity. For each one who begins to weep, somewhere else another stops. The same is true of the laugh.” - Samuel Beckett Life is bizarre combinations of impossible, f