The Messenger Of Athens: A Novel - Plot & Excerpts
Head tilted, it blinked its vacant eyes, and seemed to listen; until from far away, a crowing answer came, and soon a second, and a third. The window of the fat man’s room stood open, and the grave-cold of the night sea had crept in. Shivering, the fat man dressed as quickly as he could, in clothes infected by an unseen rime of damp. He placed an empty matchbox in his pocket, and made his way light-footed down the staircase, onto the deserted harborside. In the stillness, the sea slapped and gurgled at the harbor wall; out on the water, the red and green lights of a distant fishing boat rocked to its rhythm. The fat man took the road around the headland, where the barren rocks gave way to more level ground. Here, while the cold-blooded creatures still slept, he searched beneath the likeliest stones until he found what he was seeking; then, with the greatest possible care, he lifted his prey from the darkness of its lair and closed it tight inside his matchbox. The call to early mass went out; the Sunday bells were ringing around the island, from the tinny clang of those rope-rung to the melodic, alpine tinkling of Ayia Triander’s automated peal.
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