The Tallow Chandler – Part 5

Joe’s right eye was bloodshot from disturbed sleep, framed by the slight opening of the door and lit as if by lamplight in the glaring moon. The man, stood far enough away that Joe could see him whole, looked right into it, the strange blackness of his own an eerie, hypnotic mist. He was still, staring, just as he had been on the opposite side of the beck. A small black hole cracked open on his face.