. . .

Too much of the time it is the latter.

Too much of the time he is as a boy who is drowning, too much of the time the hat is swallowing him, sending him back to the darkness of suffocation, making him weep in fear and his body hunger to cast off the hat, but it is helping him.

Now and then, from time to time, a fire will light in him; Tom will align with Tom; he will align with himself, and the hat will acknowledge it, and in the darkness of one who wears an ill-fitting graveyard hat that slips down occasionally over one’s eyes, there is a momentary flame.

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