*Okay, Ive got an idea for a story. Feel free to join in.* Leicester, 1886 Charles Barnabus Merrick sat by the window in their little kitchen corner. Beside him was a chipped mug of half-drunk coffee an a plate of day-old bread. His hands, forever smelling of lather, flipped through the pages of the daily newspaper. He wasnt concentrating on the tiny columns of text. His wife, Jane, kept up light conversation as she went about preparing supper. That was far more stimulating than anything going on in Victorias realm that day. Yet just as he was about to toss the fish-wrap aside, something caught his eye. Joseph Merrick... That was all it took. Forgetting anything else he had on his mind, Charles eyes were now glued to the paper. Terrible though his appearance is, so terrible indeed that women and nervous persons fly in horror from the sight of him. And that he is debarred from earning his livelihood in any other way. Yet he is superior in intelligence, can read and write, is quiet, gentle, not to say even refined in his mind. It took him a moment to find his voice. Jane! Charles called.
Posted on: Tue, 15 Apr 2014 20:50:14 +0000
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