Graven Images (2006)
“Suddenly he remembered the ghost. He wondered if he had dreamed of the meeting. Then he reached for his tunic — and plucked out the coin purse.
He darted to a window and examined the coins. They were gold. He weighed one in his hand. It seemed to be real enough.
He hid the purse, then rushed out the door and down the street to a bakery.
“A loaf of bread!” the sculptor called out, above the din of the other customers.
A sow-faced baker fetched him a loaf. Cautiously, the stone carver held out on...e of the coins he’d received from the spirit — and watched in wonder as the man snatched it up, quickly returned him his change, and moved on.
For a moment Zorelli stood there, speechless, staring at the coins in his palm.
“And what’s the matter with you?” snapped the baker. “A complaint with my counting?”
“Not at all!” said Zorelli.
“Step aside, then! Let the customers through!”
Smiling to himself, Zorelli scurried home.
“And where did you get money for bread?” asked Marta, eyeing the loaf in amazement.MoreLess
He darted to a window and examined the coins. They were gold. He weighed one in his hand. It seemed to be real enough.
He hid the purse, then rushed out the door and down the street to a bakery.
“A loaf of bread!” the sculptor called out, above the din of the other customers.
A sow-faced baker fetched him a loaf. Cautiously, the stone carver held out on...e of the coins he’d received from the spirit — and watched in wonder as the man snatched it up, quickly returned him his change, and moved on.
For a moment Zorelli stood there, speechless, staring at the coins in his palm.
“And what’s the matter with you?” snapped the baker. “A complaint with my counting?”
“Not at all!” said Zorelli.
“Step aside, then! Let the customers through!”
Smiling to himself, Zorelli scurried home.
“And where did you get money for bread?” asked Marta, eyeing the loaf in amazement.MoreLess
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