Return to Plainclothes Did it really snow a few windy flakes today? Feels like a kind of enmity coming so early. The wind has been funny, though; fighting back Like an accused man, in hanging days. Nor do we seem able to find enough robots To do the deed any longer. Not here. So I'm in the market for a castle. Simple dank stone. I need the spare Stories, devised protocol of ghosts. The few of me, armed and dangerous, like a young William Penn at the bottom of his very own lake.