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indent Of all the things men did to escape life, reading was one of them. Gabriel had done many; drugs, drink, sex. This was the least active of the four, and the only one in which he could loose himself in another life. That was in part why he read fiction—it gave him a chance to separate himself from the day-to-day monotony of life. With his feet curled up and his tail hanging to the floor, he was quite comfortable. One hand supported his head, the other held the dog-eared, tattered book open. He had found it here and only picked it up recently—Different Seasons. The first story had been of about four boys finding a dead body. The second, the one he was currently reading, was about a young man discovering his next door neighbor was an infamous war criminal.

indent 'He felt like the sorcerer’s apprentice, who had brought the brooms to life but who had not possessed enough wit to stop them once they got started. The old man living in genteel poverty was gone. Dussander was here. Then his fear was replaced with a tingling sense of power.' “Shark attack!” The noise startled Gabriel from his reading, made him jump nearly out of his skin, made him let out a barking yelp of surprise. Without thinking, his traitor hands shot out and struck at the object flying towards him.




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