The Shaper

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The world had ceased to exist for James Kaiser Lohman. Deeply morose, his thoughts would not extend beyond the most narrow dimensions of self. He was hardly aware of the city around him. For an hour or more he had been wandering the streets, paying no attention to where he was going, scarcely paying attention to traffic when he crossed a street. Twice he had nearly been hit by cars. Even the swearing of those drivers had not penetrated his awareness.

Being hit by a car would have come almost as deliverance to Jimmy. “I’m dead already,” he had told himself the second time. “Might as well get it over with fast.” That had led to protracted thoughts of suicide… and a sense of relief, a feeling that—just maybe—he still had a little control over his life. Or whatever was left of it.

A car sped past him, the driver holding his horn down for more than a block, a Doppler scream that finally dragged Jimmy’s mind out of his somnambulistic trance. He blinked several times. The honking car was already out of sight. Jimmy thought that it must have been traveling at least sixty miles per hour.

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