Five things you recognise before you have read a word, each of them now standing in front of something entirely different: a Windows 98 progress bar with no disk to defragment, a Blockbuster storefront that is a newspaper box on a sidewalk, a Casio F-91W with somebody else’s board inside it, twelve gold rings arranged like a telephone that never dialled anything, and a basin still cast to the pattern of a sleeper car that stopped running in the 1960s.