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Article: DAVID CHARTERS.
- Article from:
- Daily Post (Liverpool, England)
- Article date:
- September 29, 2009
CopyrightCOPYRIGHT 2009 MGN Ltd. This material is published under license from the publisher through the Gale Group, Farmington Hills, Michigan. All inquiries regarding rights should be directed to the Gale Group. (Hide copyright information)
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EVENING had turned to night and the moon was high and proud, like a great cheese of light, when the man walked into the country pub with his story and his wild hair, his beckoning grey eyes and his punch-knuckled hands, whose thumbs had been hardened by rubbing the earth from the roots of vegetables.
And with those hands he took one long drink from a dimpled pot of beer, before walking to the low-burning coal fire, where his friends sat at a large wrought-iron table with a round top. One pulled out an oval-backed, slatted chair and it scraped on the stone-tiled-floor, as hard as the pews in the brown chapel, where snoozing was forbidden and the tall preacher ...