To what is owed this reticence? Which haunts the man at every bend of the conversation; impinging on his thoughts and fettering his tongue. Just a moment ago he had so much to say. But now that he is set in front of the audience, he has nothing. He peers into the depths of his mind, hoping to find something of use, something clever, intriguing, comedic, but there is nothing – only a dry, infertile space of thoughtlessness. Is he anxious? No, he has no reason to be anxious. Is he tired? No, he has had a good night’s rest and has done no labor all through the day. Of what then are those fetters formed? Is he distracted? No.. Maybe, yes, just maybe.