On a cold, blowy, darkest of nights, I was awakened with a start by a presence in my room, not that of a child or a pet or even a Japanese beetle but of something the likes of which I’d never seen, sort of an eerie being that seemed to loom.
He arrived not in Victorian bedclothes but in a work uniform with his name on his breast, his face creased with hard work and palms rough but strong, many muscles rippling in his chest.