Emile Toussaint
CURSE OF THE WEREWOLF
In their Paris apartments, Emile Toussaint and the general are lounging about after breakfast. It's Monday and a weekend storm is breathing its last over the gray, cold wet boulevards of the city of love.
Emile has busied himself with his latest hobby, deciphering hidden meanings in the pictographs of ancient Mayan hieroglyphics.
The general, restless as usual, has paced back and forth from his apartment to his comrade's, reading the daily gazette among plumes of blue smoke from a constant pipe dangling from his mouth...
"ah... Look here Toussaint... It says here in the 'trivia corner' that in the middle ages men were actually tortured and executed on the suspicion of being werewolves... Beastly don't you think " …show more content…
That people were that obsessed with a superstition, that they could actually send an obviously innocent man to the gallows, or however they disposed of the poor souls"
"their methods were various... But I take it you don't believe in werewolves"
At this the general folded the periodical under the arm of his smoking jacket. Taking the pipe from his mouth, he makes a squinting observation of his colleague. Toussaint hasn't as yet looked up from his work. He understands the puzzlement his question has raise. Putting down his magnifying glass he turns towards his friend...
"it was a strange encounter I had in my younger years... Before our time"
"say... How's that?"
"I think I've confided to you the miserable experiences of my college years"
"yes... Why did you drop your classes... I mean, a man of your intellect...and a prestigious university as Cambridge"
"I think I explained it to..."
"what I gathered was that you were simply bored... That to me could hardly be sufficient. I mean London and all"
"so I'll elucidate further... Besides such institutions being prisons in architect,
The weather was insistently miserable. The enlighten mind needs an ample diet of natural light. Something merry England could never quite muster with any
In their Paris apartments, Emile Toussaint and the general are lounging about after breakfast. It's Monday and a weekend storm is breathing its last over the gray, cold wet boulevards of the city of love.
Emile has busied himself with his latest hobby, deciphering hidden meanings in the pictographs of ancient Mayan hieroglyphics.
The general, restless as usual, has paced back and forth from his apartment to his comrade's, reading the daily gazette among plumes of blue smoke from a constant pipe dangling from his mouth...
"ah... Look here Toussaint... It says here in the 'trivia corner' that in the middle ages men were actually tortured and executed on the suspicion of being werewolves... Beastly don't you think " …show more content…
That people were that obsessed with a superstition, that they could actually send an obviously innocent man to the gallows, or however they disposed of the poor souls"
"their methods were various... But I take it you don't believe in werewolves"
At this the general folded the periodical under the arm of his smoking jacket. Taking the pipe from his mouth, he makes a squinting observation of his colleague. Toussaint hasn't as yet looked up from his work. He understands the puzzlement his question has raise. Putting down his magnifying glass he turns towards his friend...
"it was a strange encounter I had in my younger years... Before our time"
"say... How's that?"
"I think I've confided to you the miserable experiences of my college years"
"yes... Why did you drop your classes... I mean, a man of your intellect...and a prestigious university as Cambridge"
"I think I explained it to..."
"what I gathered was that you were simply bored... That to me could hardly be sufficient. I mean London and all"
"so I'll elucidate further... Besides such institutions being prisons in architect,
The weather was insistently miserable. The enlighten mind needs an ample diet of natural light. Something merry England could never quite muster with any