This is one talented dude.
[Edited: I need to pay better attention before posting. I removed an extra “?” in l. 9 that remained after moving some phrases around. I kept playing with that line, and still do not care for it as it is. Maybe later.]
For why do our thoughts turn to some gesture of a hand, the fall of a sleeve, some corner of a room on a particular anonymous afternoon, even when we are asleep, even when we are so old that our thoughts have abandoned other business? What are all these fragments for, if not to be knit up finally?
–Marilynne Robinson, from Housekeeping