Issue 19, Summer 1958
I will not sleep.
Men sleep and the beasts sleep, and no one watches.
The paid watchmen going their rounds
Are drowsy or a little drunk. They cannot be depended on.
The night shift in the upstairs shop lounges on the window
He has his dreams. I must watch for him.
The circuits are all alive, but there is no one to give warning.
Without watchers we are not safe.