There are more monks in Bhutan, more monks than peace than soldiers than war. There is more of nothing left but rebuilding the city walls are made of concrete and shattered. Shattering picture frames and glass of memory and things put together that never went before they had always meant to be paired into in two. Bhutan has more monks of Bhutan has beaches and the umbrella was not opened was pink but then. And the rebuilding of the shattered, by what was war over what was not war.