The Man of Shadows
I thought up this character one day and I thought he was really cool. This is the only part of the story I have yet. Tell me what you think.
He was a man of shadows. He sat in the dark, smoky corners. Listening, watching. He was not a normal man. He was fleeting. Akin to a whisp of smoke on a crisp, winter morn. He was a shadow of what he had been. The miseries of life had leeched happiness out of him. So now he sat alone. Comfortable in sadness, lonliness; in the dark. He asked only that people leave him alone and, usually, they did. Occasionally, like tonight, a man disguised as a farmer would walk up to him and ask him a favor. A bit of money would be offered, and declined. Then the farmer would walk away and the man in the shadows would sit back again. Listening, watching.
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