Wednesday 18 November 2009

The Music Teacher

He stood at the front gate, a short, tubby man, young but balding, his forehead liberally smeared with holy ash, a large red dot in the middle. He hesitated a little before sliding the bolt back and opening the gate. The barking of the resident dog sent him scampering outside, bolting the gate safely behind him.

“Who is it? What do you want?”
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