A Fixative

In your cities of tall, thin buildings I travel. I do not walk-travel or even fly-travel, but still I travel.

My tied tunic, my hood, my breeches and my slippers will give me away to those of you with keen from-the-ground eyesight. But for those without, let me tell you that the soles of my slippers are permanently coated with gum arabic, from which you could date my origins, should you so wish.

I travel only as the sun sets which, you might think, would not be for very long. But I can travel a long way in the time it takes the sun to set. Height concentrates my mind, as does the distance between the tops of your tall, thin buildings (between which I travel). And when my mind is concentrated, when it is, shall we say, fixed upon its constituent parts, I jump. It is no physical jump, it is a mind-jump but, as I am certain you will know, body-travel always succeeds mind-travel. And so it is that I travel between the tops of the tall, thin buildings of one of your cities every night, as the sun sets.

And if you have not already guessed, let me tell you that I do this so that the sun will not remain set in perpetuity. So that the sun travels between your cities of tall, thin buildings, without cease, without, you could say, coming unstuck.