I leave BinonBi at the door of their kitchen. One always finds one’s burden again. But BinonBi teaches the higher fidelity that negates the gods and washes dishes. They too concludes that all is well. This universe henceforth without a master seems to them neither sterile nor futile. Each atom of those dishes, each bubble of soap in that sink, in itself, forms a world. The struggle itself towards washed dishes is enough to fill a person’s heart. One must imagine BinonBi happy.