IIUVO, “gilot”

Summer is here, and you are a tiny sperm surfing a microscopic wave. “Let everything happen to you,” you tell the camera before being crushed by many water droplets working together.

What’s the point of having a body? If we are 70% water, how many of us would it take to fill a sea—an ocean? Your surfboard makes you pine for your former solid self. You miss being so approachable.

Winter is here, and you are a freshly-shed teardrop ice skating. “Don’t be afraid of wiping out,” you tell the camera after completing a triple axel. Your body is frozen, but you feel light as a flower.