He was unkempt, dirty and looked like he’d spent a thousand years in his clothes. His hair was long and streaked in tones of grey. His beard was long too and he wore both beard and hair wrapped like a scarf round his neck. He had a kind face and as he emerged from the shadows it was almost impossible not to stare at his eyes. One was dark almost black while the other was a cold blue like an icy winter’s morning. Violet’s Dad had told her that some people were born with different coloured eyes but William was the first one she’d met. A cluttered table rested by the front window and William cleared it off before calling over the pair. Violet sat down on one side and Boy on the other. The window was caked in dirt, which was safer, surely the Watchers couldn’t see in. “Excuse the mess,” William Archer coughed, “I haven’t had guests in a while”. “It’s fine,” Violet replied in her polite voice, “it’s just like my room.”
