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Friday, February 25, 2011

pulp art of the week

Thursday, February 3, 2011

The sinister street lamp: excerpt from my book The screw that refused to tighten part 5 , part 6 coming next month

"It's about freakin time." the chin said his pride finally winning out. He rushed up the ramp in a huff meeting the man at the top who said."This way please." and quickly did an about face and headed back for the door he'd just left. Stepping inside the room the chin saw the it was much more comfortable than was to be expected from the outside.The walls of the room  where of the finest wood stained a rich dark walnut color and the ornate tin ceiling panels above reflected the warm light . There where fine European tapestries hanging on all the walls bringing more warmth to the room and plush rugs pilled on the floor. To the left side of the room there was a large oak canopy bed with deep red satin curtains . The bed was covered in the most plush bedding he had ever seen which included more pillows than any one man should rightly have. On the opposite side of the room there was an equally large oak desk with a comfortably padded chair and an oversized painting of a regal looking man wearing a suit of armor. On the desk there where stacks of papers , books , an array of elegant pens and a small lamp with a green , yellow and blue stained glass shade. Finally to the far end of the room there was an ornate wood burning stove built more for beauty than anything else. In front of the stove stood two large wing back chairs both with their backs to the door. In between which sat a small table with a decanter of brandy and two glasses. All this he saw in a matter of seconds but none of this mattered to him at the moment , because from behind one of those two chairs an arm had appeared .The arm had raised up ever so slightly and with the subtle motion from two fingers it signaled for him to enter. " You may go in now ." Said the bulky escort . then he turned to leave closing the door behind him. He stood there for a moment thinking about what he would say. Before he could get all his thoughts in order he heard a voice saying " When I offer someone a seat I don't like being made to offer twice." "Yes sir." He said caught a little off guard. As he made his way towards the chairs his eyes never left the arm. As he got closer he saw more and more of the hideous man the arm was attached to. The man who sat in that chair seemed well enough built for his age but obviously weakened by years of fighting, the red band on his other arm said who he fought for. That he had earned rank and recognition for his skill in the war was apparent, that he had paid a price for his position was just as clear. As the looked at the man in the chair his gaze was met by a face he could never forget.The man had one bright blue eye and an eye that was white and cloudy, most likely ruined in the fire that scared nearly the whole left side of his face. Somehow the effect of that was nothing in comparison to the deep scar that started at the left corner of his upper lip and ran in a wide gash toward where his left ear should have been.