He was an inch, perhaps two, under six feet, powerfully built, and he advanced straight at you with a slight stoop of the shoulders, head forward, and a fixed from-under stare which made you think of a charging bull.
With the exception of the height, you might easily think Joseph Conrad were writing about me, not his vaunted Lord Jim. I do have that effect. Or would like to.
This has settled into a pleasing enough place that I think to spend some time here, amid books and places that by my reckoning provide ample protection from predators as I begin preparing to educate myself. I step forth like Stephen Deadalus, to experience life and forge the uncreated conscience of my species.
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