Category: Fantasy Publisher: CreateSpace
ISBN-10: 1441452230
Pages: 100
Copyright: February 17, 2009
ISBN-13: 9781441452238
A bank clerk loses his job on Christmas Eve and copes very poorly with the shock. Too distraught to return home to his doting family, he lingers about the snowy streets, stumbling upon a very curious individual with whom he unwittingly embarks upon a fantastic escapade that sorely tests his mettle as a man, a husband and a father.
A bank clerk loses his job on Christmas Eve and copes very poorly with the shock. Too distraught to return home to his doting family, he lingers about the snowy streets, stumbling upon a very curious individual with whom he unwittingly embarks upon a fantastic escapade that sorely tests his mettle as a man, a husband and a father.
Excerpt
Instead it struck something calloused and leathery and yielding a muted thump. A dusky, gnarly hand had interposed itself at the last instant and had stifled the knock. He followed that hand up the arm to the clavicle, to the face of the Gypsy-King, though he hardly looked the Gypsy-King anymore. Mr. Newbigging sprang away into the middle of the street to take in the new startling appearance his transporter had assumed all of a sudden. He had had a brown complexion before but at least it had been a hale and hearty looking one; but now the Gypsy-King’s face was as dusky and cindery and tortured and twisted as a charred old lava-stone, with a sooty excrescence of black slag, which appeared to be some species of goatee, growing out of his spiked chin. His smile had been a jaunty and impudent one but at least it had had a certain amiability about it that made it tolerable, but now it was pure malevolence with the thin, livid, crevassed lips almost parting the bottom half of his face – because the smile had extended to twice the width than before, almost touching the one and the other earlobe. He had lost his multicolored gypsy outfit: the bright orange fez with the fair-haired tassels was gone, supplanted by a jungle of scraggly red hair; the patterned Turkish waistcoat and the billowy gold pants had rotted into an ashy, desiccated carapace and Mr. Newbigging could not tell if the new raiment was detached from the creature or if it was part of his hideously scaled hide.
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