He was duplicitous right up front, that was the charm of it.
Two sides to every story he said. Never trust a
man with eyes that blue; they looked like they'd dropped into his head right out of a cloudless sky.
often seemed to shift unexpectedly as if he was turning away, as if he had suddenly, disappointingly, lost
But he knew the only way out, he was the key. Around twilight he would almost disappear, as if
he needed either the darkness or the
light to make him real.