Jack Vettriano A Kind of Loving II

I never had an audience like dat in my whole life,' said Cliff.
‘Oook.'
'If we're so good,' a smaller man wearing a long coat and a wide, friendly grin.
'Ah,' said the grin. 'You'd be Buddy, right?'
‘Er, yes.'
And then the man was inside, without actually appearing to have moved, and kicking the door shut in the landlord's face.
'Dibbler's the name,' the grin went on. 'C. M. O. T. Dibbler. I dare say you've heard said Glod, 'why ain't we rich?'"Cos you do the negotiatin',' said Cliff. 'If we've got to pay for der furniture, I'm soon goin' to have to eat my dinner through a straw.''You saying I'm no good?' said Glod, getting angrily to his feet.'You blow good horn. But you ain't no financial wizard.''Hah, I'd just like to see 'There was a knock on the door.Cliff sighed. 'Dat'll be Hibiscus again,' he said. 'Pass me dat mirror. I'll try to hit one out on de other side.'Buddy opened the door. Hibiscus was there, but behind

Jack Vettriano exit Eden

that would have interested the four enforcers of the Musicians' Guild sitting outside a piano‑shaped hole in Phedre Road.things, she knew. But only because he was, well, quite frankly, a bit soppy.
He'd been made a duke by Queen Keli of Sto Lat. Susan knew what the title meant ‑ duke meant 'war leader'. But her father never fought anyone. He seemed to spend all his time travelling from one wretched city state to another, all over the Sto Plains, just talking to people and trying to get them to talk to other people. He'd never killed anyone, as far as Susan knew, although he may have talked a few politicians to death. That didn't seem to be much of a job for a war leader. Admittedly there didn't seem to be all the little wars there used to be, but it was
. . . not a proud kind of life.Susan strode through the rooms of Death, seething gently with anger and just a touch of fear, which only made the anger worse.How could anyone even think like that? How could anyone be content to just be the personification of a blind force? Well, there were going to be changes . . .Her father had tried to change

Thomas Kinkade HOMETOWN MEMORIES

weeks ago, he'd have said so. But then he'd been a good circle‑going boy from the valleys, who didn't drink, didn't swear and played the harp at every druidic sacrifice.
Now he worse than students.'
And he raised his crossbow and fired, right at the main bellows.needed that piano. The sound had been nearly right.He snapped his fingers in time with his thoughts.'But we ain't got anyone to play it,' said Cliff.'You get the piano,' said Glod. 'I'll get the piano player.'And all the time they kept glancing at the guitar.The wizards advanced in a body towards the organ. The air around it vibrated as if super‑heated.'What an unholy noise!' shouted the Lecturer in Recent Runes.'Oh, I don't know!' screamed the Dean. 'It's rather catchy!'Blue sparks crackled between the organ pipes. The Librarian could just be seen high in the trembling structure.'Who's pumping it?' screamed the Senior Wrangler.Ridcully looked around at the side. The handle seemed to be going up and down by itself.'I'm not having this,' he muttered, 'not in my damn university. It's

Paul Klee Fish Magic

we have travelled for many miles over–’ said the acolyte.
'Shut up a minute, will you?'
The holy man put out his hand, palm turned vertical, and waved it a few times. He muttered under his breath.
The acolytes a large white horse was placidly watching the view.
He said, GO AWAY.
The horse watched him warily. It was considerably more intelligent than most horses, although this was not a difficult achievement. It seemed aware that things weren't right with its master.
I MAY BE SOME TIME, said Death.
And he set out.
It wasn't raining in Ankh‑Morpork. This had come as a big surprise to Imp.exchanged glances. They hadn't expected this. Finally, their leader found a drop of courage.'Master–’The holy man turned and caught him across the ear. The sound this made was definitely a clap.'Ah! Got it!' said the holy man. 'Now, what can I do for–’He stopped as his brain caught up with his ears.'What did he mean, humans?'Death walked thoughtfully across the hill to the place where

Rembrandt Christ On The Cross

you're a wolf and human at the same time, right? Tricky, that. I can see that. Bit of a dichotomy, sort of thing. Makes you kind of like a dog. said. Truth rang on every word.
'The thing is . . . the actual thing is . . . I will, though,' he added, trembling. 'It's a bugger, bein' a dog.'
He thought some more, and sighed.
'Oh, I remember. It's the one in the throat,' he said.'Cos that's what a dog is, really. Half a wolf and half a human. You were right about that. We've even got names. Hah! So our bodies tell us one thing, our heads tell us another. It's a dog's life, being a dog. And I bet you can't run away from him. Not really. He's your master.'The darkness was more silent. Gaspode thought he heard movement.'He wants you to come back. The thing is, if he finds you, that's it. He'll speak, and you'll have to obey. But if you goes back of your own accord, then it's your decision. You'd be happier as a human. I mean, what can I offer you except rats and a choice of fleas? I mean, I don't know, I don't see it as much of a problem, you just have to stay indoors six or seven nights every month—'Angua howled.The hairs that still remained on Gaspode's back stood on end. He tried to remember which was his jugular vein.'I don't want to have to come in there and get you,' he