Myth-man visits. Not a person, a preoccupation - excuse for mindlessness, lethargy, chemical hope, saltless foods and water, too hot. He tries. He’s in our town. He came via old connection. He has a new system now; he’s looking for comrades. He only finds cowards. Myth-man never looks you in the eye anymore. He silently calls, signing mouth-caws as if they make sound. See? The people of the town try and try to sleep. Like cats they curl, and still their troubles quake. Retract your ghosts, they plead, take back those things we learned to live without.