A mysterious naked man has been reportedon Cranston Avenue.
The police are performingthe usual ceremonies with coloured lights and sirens.
Almost everyone is outdoors and strangers are conversing excitedlyas they do during disasters when their involvement is peripheral.'What did he look like?' the lieutenant is asking.'I don't know,' says the witness. 'He was naked.'There is talk of dogs—this is no ordinary caseof indecent exposure, the man has been seena dozen times since the milkman spotted him and nowthe sky is turning purple and voicescarry a long way and the childrenhave gone a little crazy as they often do at duskand cars are arrivingfrom other sections of the city.
And the mysterious naked manis kneeling behind a garbage can or lying on his bellyin somebody's gardenor maybe even hiding in the branches of a tree,where the wind from the harbourwhips at his naked body,and by now he's probably donewhatever it was he wanted to doand wishes he could go to sleepor dieor take to the air like Superman.
