Excerpt from Tapu

Darkness was creeping in, laying siege to the lazy gold-mining town beyond the restaurant window. As the door opened, the candles flickered, causing the varnished wood to gleam.  The flutters drew your attention and you turned. 

He entered the noise with his head down, his body long and thin as a wizard’s staff.  Shielded by a certain kind of wisdom, he appeared almost regal, as if surrounded by a force-field of impermeable self-sufficiency.  He was middle-aged, but a shock of grey-flecked raven, curly hair lent him a rakish aspect which belied an otherwise intense gravity.

His dark face was thick-set with a prominent forehead, cheekbones and chin.  These were patterned with black lines and spirals.  He looked exotic – yet simultaneously seemed to belong.