A jet flies in front of the sun, darkening my world. I call it Alexander, imagining, in the instant before light returns, that I am a Diogenes. Alexander goes on to occlude other worlds than mine. Later that evening I see the pinpoint that is Jupiter near the convexity of our moon and realise the moment of its occultation has passed without my observation. It will disappear on the dark side, said Dr Lomb. No matter, since it has surely reappeared. Was it then, as sister planet occluded gas giant and worlds seemed to but did not collide, that someone skimmed my bank account of all the little it contained? Was that when the violation occurred? Man’s luck is found in strange places, said Pelsaert to two criminal Dutchmen he marooned on the West Australian shore, circa 1629. When you think that you’ve lost everything/You find out you can always lose a little more … sings Dylan. Premonitory words I’ve been entertaining for a while. If I could have got them out of my head would the disaster (= unfavourable aspect of a star) not have happened? Is it even a disaster? At the bank they are sympathetic but powerless to help. I must report the fraud to the police so as to get a case number for the counter claim. It will take twenty-one days. The policewoman says: Fill out this form. Do you have a pen? I ask. No, she says. She rummages through a drawer and comes up with a green one. I write my stat. dec. in bilious ink. Later, waspishly: We’re only following procedure. Everyone gets treated the same. I know, I reply, knowing it isn’t so. But the stars are indifferent. The planets too … or are they? My horoscope for that yesterday says: Power plays are going on around you and your working life is now in the hands of brokers. Learn the subtle art of manipulation ... Today’s egregious suggestion is that I should try to see the positive in the situation. I’m not sure if I can. I need to be Diogenes for longer than the pause of an Alexander. When power confronts thought, is it always just a passing shadow? When thought encounters power … what? Jupiter hangs now yellowy and pendant to the boneyard moon. Stars glitter in the cold air. Planets shine, I recall, stars pulse. The moon waxes. Then it wanes. I would like to think that there will be a reckoning.