It come most often at night. That niggling memory, gnawing in some corner of your mind like a rodent chewing the corners of the drywall. The memory of some brightly lit cartoon funland, or a world of puppets. A memory of a tv show, you would watch, seated cross legged on the living room floor with the fixed enthusiastic attention only a child can give. Attention that you wish now, you perhaps hadn't given so freely. For there is something about that show, something about the discordant music, the details of the characters, their movements and the story lines, the fixed maniacal grins that seems, looking back, to be all together two sinister to be a children show. You try to block the memory out and yet, they're in the back of your mind, most often at night, the puppets fixed grin, keeps on smiling.