With no depth perception, the amount of gauze and Bactine needed for banged-up
knees is unimaginable.  His sister’s eye-paint is always smeared, his buffalo-sized dog
afraid to be tossed a leg bone.  When the first crew of sailors arrive and scurry in terror,
he feels a kind of pride and jokes to his sister about wild geese migrating west.  Then
came the Hunger, so he waded into the ocean to retrieve the fleeing ships.  All of the
sunburned, skinny men he threw into a cold, deep pit which served as his larder.  He told
them, “Be reasonable.”
            And when they came to their senses, they began to kill each other until no one
was left but the Cyclops, his sobbing sister, and a dog that did nothing but whimper as the
moon rose, huge and alone in the southern sky.