Today is the only day you’ll see him, the man across the road. He only comes out when everyone else is dressed up. Some call him grim, some call him Oscar Zahn, but I know the truth. He’s no man, nor mortal but a shell, a ghost, a partial protector on an old soul, he stops in every year to stare from across the road. He makes sure all is well, I assume maybe he used to know someone here, hell - ma...