From the steps of the Temple one can see all the way across Beggar's Town, and to the city. Before the big coal factory was put in, you could see the ocean on clear days. That becomes a real rarity these days, but I try not to regret.

The sunsets have become much more impressive.

It's as twilight's veil is drawing over the city, and especially Beggar's Town, which is the part which remains most clear to me, that reminds me of who I am and where I came from. Watching the city quiet down, prepare for sleep. Watching my own city (as it were) close up and hold its secrets close.

People in Beggar's Town can sleep at any hour, and hold many jobs ... our pattern is a chaotic fluctuation compared to the rhythm of the city. Or maybe it only seems this way at sunset, watching the light of sun fade, shrouding everything in darkness?

I remember distinctly when I was young, I could see the city more clearly when the sun went down. Now it's a remote blur, a life that touches mine, but I no longer know.

Perhaps the sun has not lost it's luster, and perhaps it is not the coal- smoke, either. Perhaps it is that I have drawn away, because I now know that Beggar's Town is my home. Is this acceptance, I wonder?

But then ... I go ahead of myself. All of these things in time, I suppose.

Next time, my friends, my story.

But not this time.