At eight o'clock of a hazy November evening, I was once again following Mr. Leonard Mead on one of his nightly walks. He always would stand upon the intersection and stare down the lonely streets trying to decide what way to go. Some nights he would walk for hours and return to his house at midnight.
Is Mr. Leonard Mead is an Insomniac? Go to your closest doctor and ask them the symptoms of insomnia. Then write a paragraph on whether or not you think he is.
I have been Following Mr. Mead Since the beginning. I was a Newspaper Columnist back when T.V's weren't so important. One of my first missions was to find one lonely man and follow him for my story. As the time went on and the whole world started to revolve around T.V. No one became interested in the newspapers, but he still want to "stalk" Mr. leonard Mead.
On this one particular night
he began walking east toward the hidden sea. I heard him talking into the houses on every side, "Hello in there! Whats up tonight on channel 4, Channel 7, Channel 9? Where are the cowboys rushing and do I see the United States Cavalry over the next hill to rescue?"
Since he keeps mentioning cowboys and the United States Cavalry does this mean he likes the wild west?
I started to laugh because he looked so ridiculous talking to nothing. He stopped, I think he heard me, but he just went on like nothing happend. In the ten years of him walking he had never seen another person walking, not one in all that time. But little did he know I have been with him the whole time. He came to a cloverleaf intersection, which stood two silent main highways.
Does the reference to the cloverleaf intercection refer to the Potato famine in Ireland. Is Leonard Mead
Suddenly a flash of light came around the corner. A metallic voice called out. "Standstill. Stay where you are! Don't move!"
He then stopped.
"Put up your hands!"
"But.." he said.
There is only one police car left in he city of three million.
"Your name?" said the police car.
"Leonard Mead!"
"Buisness or Proffesion?"
"I guess you would call me a writer."
"No Proffesion."
The car
said that as if it was talking to itslef.
"What are you doing?"
"Walking."
"Walking!"
"Yes just walking."
"What are you walking for?"
"Just walking, for air."
"Do you have an air conditioner?"
"Yes."
"And you have a viewing screen?"
"No."
"Are you married?"
"No."
The car and Leonrad kept going on and on talking, I stayed a good distance so the car couldnt see me.
"Get in," said the car.
"I protest."
"Mr. Mead!"
He finally got in the car. They started heading toward the Physciatric Center for Regressive Tendency.
