TAILIEUCHUNG - A Right Stitch Up

which he knocked. A discussion going on inside but I was still bid to enter. In the room was a squat, uncouth man talking to a sallow, handsome younger fellow. I could immediately tell the student had intelligence enough to match the master but he seemed such a weed that I didn’t take to him. The professor, Mr Kempe, spoke with a derisory but humane manner and I thought, “I could work with this man.” | A RIGHT STITCH UP By Richard Kerr Copyright 2011 Richard Kerr Smashwords Edition Smashwords Edition License Notes This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or giveaway to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you re reading this book and did not purchase it or it was not purchased for your use only then please return to and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. Discover other works by the author on Totally For Real http books view 35270 A RIGHT STITCH UP These words have just been downloaded by you gentle reader in the form of a book . Yet they were not words before you did this. They were just 1s and 0s held on a hard drive somewhere. Without you this story would not exist. Some smarty pants said not that long ago that as soon as an author starts to write he or she enters into his own death. Don t know what the hell that means. Perhaps it means that all these words lie dead until a reader such as you picks them up and gives them life. That means so much more these days when the words don t even exist never mind die until you open them on a viewer. I will have been long dead by the time you read this. The person who typed up this story Richard Kerr is hopefully still alive and well. Nice chap. I know you are reading this. Yet I m clearly not a ghost looking over your shoulder. oOo I died in the year 18 In my day novelists were discreet about dates . More importantly I was born in 17 to a mediocre wool merchant in Berne Switzerland. My mother died when I was twelve and I had a younger brother. My brother had no interest in mental pursuits and desired only to see the world through joining the army. If he seems a simplistic cliché that is because he is of no importance to this story and I can t be bothered to create more interesting siblings. I .

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