Michael Cole

Published by Foremost Press at Smashwords

Copyright 2010 Michael Cole

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The interloper had been crouching in the snow watching the priest’s every move. When the clergyman approached the fire, the intruder readied himself for action, but instead of lunging at the priest, he backed off because he did not have the book. It was only when the grey shadows of twilight were replaced by the faint glow of the fire that the priest made his move. The interloper’s eyes followed the clergyman as he ignited a torch and then entered the Santa Passera Church. The interloper could hear him walk from the entrance to the pulpit where a rickety staircase led to the belfry. And although the priest trod ever so lightly on the earthen floor, the interloper, who was not far behind, could hear the shuffling of his feet. Unlike the noise of a rat, it was more pronounced, like the sound of acorns being crunched by a shoe.

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