THE EMISSARY
He sat on the Underground train, the vibration awakening ages old aches in his brittle bones. Tall and gaunt, he was skeleton thin, his clothes were old and shabby, hanging slackly on his frame, so that he resembled a scarecrow. He sat thinking: this one would be easy, because it was time. With others it was hard; when it was not time, and especially when they were babies or young children. Then it was hard, and could be soul destroying. He was tired to his very soul, but there could not be any... Sign in to see full entry.