Numa oficina costeira, uma bússola sem letras reúne duas agulhas ponta a ponta num pivô laranja; ao fundo, uma biruta indica outro rumo diante do mar.
Abertura — os dois ponteiros recusaram o norte.

It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of Annabel Lee;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.

À margem

o mapa escolheu a margem antes de desenhar o reino.

I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea,
But we loved with a love that was more than love—
I and my Annabel Lee—
With a love that the wingèd seraphs of Heaven
Coveted her and me.

À margem

o comparativo pediu uma unidade de medida.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsmen came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in Heaven,
Went envying her and me—
Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

À margem

a explicação chegou vestida de consenso.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we—
Of many far wiser than we—
And neither the angels in Heaven above
Nor the demons down under the sea
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

À margem
Dois cordões de carvão formam um nó de marinheiro, atravessam uma tesoura aberta e continuam inteiros; um ponto laranja ocupa o vão entre as lâminas.

For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride,
In her sepulchre there by the sea—
In her tomb by the sounding sea.

Uma máquina costeira registra uma onda num rolo de papel; a faixa desaparece dentro de um bloco maciço de pedra e reaparece do outro lado com a mesma linha, enquanto a ponta laranja do estilete continua o traço.
Fecho — a pedra interrompeu o papel; a maré continuou a linha.