The brain eaters are lumbering along like dripping lepers at the cold docks, each nimble priest perched on their cross like scowling crows, under one sky full of glowing night-clouds, I walk here deadwhite in the blackness and somber hue of the mercury harbor-lights, a silhouette in a church window resembling a cardinal in a waxy pool of chrome, the frightened murderers hiding in their obedient shadows, the silence here is beautiful, silence is more beautiful than anything that speaks, if you listen humbly and intently, I will be silent.