16) I found a back door to the shanty or I wouldn't be wandering the waterfront, now would I. I do not know what to make of this turn of events. Perhaps I should have stayed put. But the language barrier...that, and I don't have any papers. How to explain to the police when I am such a poor illustrator and, double whammy, when I am unable to converse sensibly for conventional lengths of time without gasping? How to express an idea before passing out? So attractive. I might as well be wearing a butcher's apron. And, anyway, vocalizing is difficult for me. I have a blockage, a polyp, or a fleshy hinge betwixt wind pipe and voice box. Dr. Creep has not fooled with this part of my anatomy, so I can't be sure. But I need help. I would appreciate intervention so that I might speak to another living soul now and again. Dr. Creep, are you listening?