On Prince Street, at the ends of the Night, you are witness to a vast orchestral show, swells of sound move from woodwind to string to police siren, calling forth poetic articulation for sensations you never before could describe. The faces of the streets are re-cobbled nightly, triggered by something irrelevant, like the solipsistic revelation of some sad junkie in the gutter by The Surgeons’ Rest. Hugo Trance, illegal abortionist, as tired as the rest of them, slouches toward The Surgeons’ Rest to realize himself, and be consumed. But - tonight he meets Eleanor, a dancer, a customer. Afterward: she wants to see him again. Why would she want that?