“Go to sleep, go to sleep, be careful as not to weep, for the man in the closet might creeping near, shush, shush he might hear,” the strange woman sung the song as she did every night, taking care to hang each tassel with haste.

The eyeless man with a tall frame and fingers that were impossibly long, would crawl out on all fours when the children wept in their beds alone at night— be careful, don’t cry yourself to sleep; for the man with no eyes might find a place in your cold heart.