Awakening from his usual 13-hour sleep, followed by 3 hours of restlessness, a 2-hour nap, and concluding with a 6-hour endurance of actually doing something, the man slept like a cat. He had a beard down to his waist that he would cut off to his neck every 3 years. His mane received the same treatment as he believed hair trimming took up too much time in a man’s life. He ate fruit and vegetables that he grew out back of his trailer home in King county and his only source of protein was the rabbits that he raised in chicken wire cages. The local folks considered him an enigma. If he saw anyone approach his 1/4 acre fenced-in compound, he merely retreated into his trailer, locked the door, and went to sleep. His world consisted of vivid dreams that took him to fantastic locations, and he only used his waking hours to sustain his existence. He owned no vehicle, so he never ventured out amongst the harried humans. The only person, locally, that had any kind of conversation with him was Ted the postal worker, who delivered his mail. Ted was a former marine that never divulged the contents of their conversations. He firmly believed in privacy, as guaranteed by the U.S. constitution, and Ted always lived his life with a patriotic fervor. The unkempt man’s source of money was a mystery that got the locals to speculate about his being able to survive without a job. Yet, with no health problems, his only liabilities were some meager utility bills and a paltry property tax. Any form of government assistance could supply that. He cared nothing about material goods and could fix everything he owned. Without flash or convenience, really, how much does it cost to live? He did not seek any waking stimulus because no wear or tear occurs on a sleeping soul who dreams his way
through life. He was different, and thus, in the eyes of normal people, he was somehow deemed dangerous. His only name was Gibberanty, and he was soon destined to die a violent death in the near future.