To Catch an Angel [antikvár]

Preface Ever since I was a young child, people have stared at me. Knots of window-shoppers are suddenly silent as I pass, and when they think I'm out of earshot they say, 'Isn't it a shame!' And when someone helps me across a crowded intersection, his curiosity cannot be restrained. 'What's it like? Just darkness, eh? Always dark like midnight, I suppose? It must be very strange. But, then, you have a sixth sense, don't you? All you people do. Very strange!' 'Well,' I asked myself, 'am I so strange?' I have come to the conclusion that they are right—I am peculiar. I am convinced, also, that those window-shoppers, if they considered the question seriously, would come to the same conclusion about themselves. For we are all oddities, all peculiar, all individuals. But the loneliness of being