I'm back. I dread returning to a town. I rented there once. That has a new door. And there I worked. This block is so rundown. I said. “I'll never step back in that store.” I crashed a party there. That's new, to me. Those folks divorced. Their neighbors moved away. I guess that lady died. They closed her bakery. Remodeled. Gone. That's here till Judgment Day. New cities never frighten me because I re-create myself. But could I here? So few remain who might recall my flaws. Could I forget my past? No, ever near are haunt houses. I know every ghost. The ones with my own face I dread the most.

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