J.H. is gradually losing his mind, no longer appearing at work. He's a disembodied voice, suddenly present on conference calls, intoning glumly on some technical matter or other. No one knows quite where he goes or where he is.


I looked into the P&G Bar as I often do. Just into the picture window, you see. On my way up Amsterdam & home. Pretty inviting in there though. Today there was an old man at the bar, wearing a hat. A scarecrow type, Burroughsy figure. Wearing a cheap brown suit about as well as anybody could. I thought to myself, Is that some great old man perched on a barstool in a bar? And it was.