The black base toned noise has taken the form of a man. There are no eyes, or mouth, ears or clothes – just a tar like form. He sits in his corner of my room: feet on the floor, knees bent, with his bottom on the floor. His arms hold his thighs to his chest as he leans forward the blunt burnt mound that is his head staring at me without eyes. He has sat without moving in the darkness for as long as I have been awake. I’m quiet and still, hoping he doesn’t realize I’m awake. His strength fills the small dark bedroom. I feel small and wonder what he thinks as he sits sliently. For the first time I fall asleep with the form sitting in my room.