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Story : His Name Is Red (Part 7)

Story : His Name Is Red (Part 7)

Even a child that I was, I remember that during the twenty-minute walk back home, I was clutching my bag of toys tightly, and thinking about Old Man Red, and what he did for me. It would have been a trivial thing to anyone, I supposed, for an adult to buy something for a child. But to a child who had simple but (to her) pressing needs, Mister Red was practically a hero! A toy would have been a priceless…

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Story : His Name Is Red (Part 5)

Story : His Name Is Red (Part 5)

An unreadable look on his face, Old Man Red walked the short distance to the counter, murmured something to Mr. Bin, placed the balls down near the cash register, picked up his purchases, nodded his head at the store-owner, turned away and left. He didn’t look at me again, still standing there silently but with an unfamiliar feeling roiling around in my stomach. Mr. Bin sighed. I’ve always known Mr. Bin as a kindly elderly man, one of the few…

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Story : His Name Is Red (Part 3)

Story : His Name Is Red (Part 3)

But no one bothered to explain further to us ‘kids’ what kind of monster or what this ‘monster’ really looked like. They just gave the impression that the monster looked like Old Man Red. However, I did remember that a neighbor visited with my parents once. He was telling us in hushed whispers, that one dark night he saw Old Man Red digging a deep hole in the forest behind his, Mister Red’s, house. He was putting a big and…

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Story : His Name Is Red (Part 2)

Story : His Name Is Red (Part 2)

For as far as I knew, only a handful of adults would bother to greet him and made efforts to talk to him. At which point, Old Man Red would reply abruptly and gruffly, before turning away as if he didn’t welcome the attention or courtesy. Yikes! I did wonder though, how he came to be called ‘Red’ since nothing about the old man came remotely close to being anything of bright color, or any color for that matter. Everything about him was…

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