Yesterday I wrote about the shadow of Bogart’s shoulder transposed to the back of Britt’s chair. The notion was that our shadows live in a separate dimension, uniting us in ways we can’t fathom. Ridiculous, of course. And yet today Bogart’s shoulder, transposed into Britt’s shadow, has crept into the foreground over Gloria Grahame’s left arm. So who’s ridiculous now? Hmm?⠀