He came from out of town. He always came from out of town and brought danger. He was alwalys bringing danger. And we were always afraid. He wore a shirt made of wool (red).

I learned how to bait a fish hook that afternoon. I remember the sun. What strikes me now is how carful people are at thirty-eight. Once he crashed his bike and his brain got too big for his head.

It was the summer of '72 when I met him. Well I didn't actually meet him. I heard of him. And I went to his house in the middle of Paris. Or at least a facsimile of his house which was reproduced in the middle of Paris. There were clothes he left behind. And shoes. There was a hole in the ceiling where he got out. He flew away. None of us wanted to beleive it but there it was. A fact.