Wednesday, January 9, 2019

100 Words a Day 1266

His face was the color of dusty shadow, touched above each eye with a slash of white. Scars crisscrossed his dark face and bald head. One on his cheek pulled the edge of his lip into half an unsettling smile. He wore an unremarkable traveler’s outfit that hung down in such a way as to hide the man beneath. Wherever he walked, be it over gravel or up old stairs, his footsteps never seemed to make a sound. He also had a reputation for materializing out of shadows. His response to people mentioning this was a laugh and a wave.

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