Winter's Daughter
“Well, Dillon thought, I wasn’t too far off.
"Mornin’, Councilman. That be all for you?" Dillon looked appraisingly at the man on the other side of the newsstand’s counter. A big man, balding but somehow ageless. Massive shoulders and bulging muscles strained the seams of the olive drab long–sleeved shirt he wore half buttoned over a white cotton T–shirt. His neck rose from the collar of his shirt like the trunk of a tree. From the waist up, Dillon thought, the man looked like he could bench...–press a Mack truck. And in spite of the fact that the lower half of his body ended at mid–thigh, his eyes had the serenity of a quiet pond.
"How’d you know who I was?" Dillon asked curiously as he dug in his pocket for a dollar.
The man’s chuckle was soft, a warm, rich sound. "Oh, I have my ways, Councilman. I have my ways." He tapped a stack of newspapers. Dillon grinned. The man held out his hand. "Gunner," he said as Dillon shook it.MoreLess
"Mornin’, Councilman. That be all for you?" Dillon looked appraisingly at the man on the other side of the newsstand’s counter. A big man, balding but somehow ageless. Massive shoulders and bulging muscles strained the seams of the olive drab long–sleeved shirt he wore half buttoned over a white cotton T–shirt. His neck rose from the collar of his shirt like the trunk of a tree. From the waist up, Dillon thought, the man looked like he could bench...–press a Mack truck. And in spite of the fact that the lower half of his body ended at mid–thigh, his eyes had the serenity of a quiet pond.
"How’d you know who I was?" Dillon asked curiously as he dug in his pocket for a dollar.
The man’s chuckle was soft, a warm, rich sound. "Oh, I have my ways, Councilman. I have my ways." He tapped a stack of newspapers. Dillon grinned. The man held out his hand. "Gunner," he said as Dillon shook it.MoreLess
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