“Rooster-cry” names that hour when, for anyone who’s been on a farm or who lives in Liliha (where feral roosters prowl the streets), the rooster heralds not so much the breaking of day, but the aching of the night. The rooster crows, as Agamben suggests, as an inquiry in the darkness, asking when the light will return: “His – if you listen carefully – is the heartbroken cry of those who watch in the night and until the last do not know if the day will come.”