There are less stressful occupations, let me tell you, than sitting on the highest hill in Argos' demesne, watching day and night (a year is it now?) 24/7 for a signal fire on a distant island mountain. That's the last of a relay of pyres built up, stretching on similar mountain summits from Troy to Argos, to signal Agamemnon's return from sacked Troy. The news will travel faster through swift medium of fire than Agamemnon's oar and sail can speed through cumbrous water. Clytemnestra will have time to prepare a reception and sacrifice. I know more than I let on about that--prefer my throat unslit. Philosophers come by to a spot near me to harangue and sometimes prophesy--there's Heraclitus, same name as me only I'm called Firewatcher, he's called Philosopher. Getting better at understanding him but a lot's still over my head. The volume and sonority jolts you awake, that's very much a plus. What do you mean asleep? Just because you had to shake me roughly and I appeared to snore? At least it was my friend the poet-singer Archilochis who shook me. Wouldn't want to explain my strategy of feigned sleep to Clytemnestra's spymaster Orchidous--who seems to show up just when my wife, visiting with lunch or other refreshment, is leaving. Even knowing the times in advance, I'm always taken by surprise. Perhaps because Olive's visits. which are pure joy, throw me off guard. Something a little off about that 'man' Orchidous. Diogenes is a more personable type, cynic of course buyt you can have a real conversation with him at least. It passes the time, so does Archilochis' song--surprising he wins neither fame nor wealth, but perhaps it's as he says: in song the loot accompanies the liar. What's that? a flicker of fire in the distance, so this is the day I'm released from my watch? Have to look for new work as son as I've slept off the worst effects of this job. Where's my torch? Let the interesting times begin! {Firewatcher's Wages can be thought of as a 'prequel' to The Oresteia.}