World Gone By: a Novel
“Two of them stepped from the pack to frisk the guests. The rest stood motionless under a pale brown canopy, all light missing from their eyes. Most were tall. None wore shirts, which exposed the track marks in their arms, as black as worms burned into asphalt. Their rib cages protruded.
They represented a multitude of races—Turks, Russians, two Orientals, three or four who looked like garden-variety American white trash. The one who frisked Joe had toffee skin, straw-yellow hair cut close to hi...s scalp, and a harelip. He wore a long curved knife on his hip with an ivory handle sheathed in a leather scabbard. The one who frisked Rico had sharp Slavic features and hair as dark as the sky. Both sported long nails. Joe looked at the other eighteen men and saw that all grew their nails long. A few had pared them to points. Most brandished knives in the waistbands of their tattered trousers. The ones who didn’t tucked pistols there. When the two had finished frisking Joe and Rico, the wall parted to reveal Lucius on the other side, sitting in a mahogany plantation chair.MoreLess
They represented a multitude of races—Turks, Russians, two Orientals, three or four who looked like garden-variety American white trash. The one who frisked Joe had toffee skin, straw-yellow hair cut close to hi...s scalp, and a harelip. He wore a long curved knife on his hip with an ivory handle sheathed in a leather scabbard. The one who frisked Rico had sharp Slavic features and hair as dark as the sky. Both sported long nails. Joe looked at the other eighteen men and saw that all grew their nails long. A few had pared them to points. Most brandished knives in the waistbands of their tattered trousers. The ones who didn’t tucked pistols there. When the two had finished frisking Joe and Rico, the wall parted to reveal Lucius on the other side, sitting in a mahogany plantation chair.MoreLess
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