The Icy Fingers
By Ian Proctor
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The Icy Fingers - Ian Proctor
AuthorHouse™ UK Ltd.
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Bloomington, IN 47403 USA
www.authorhouse.co.uk
Phone: 0800.197.4150
© 2014 Ian Proctor. All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.
Published by AuthorHouse 01/14/2014
ISBN: 978-1-4918-9076-9 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-4918-9077-6 (e)
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and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
CONTENTS
The Icy Fingers
No Justice
Making Friends
I Bunju
Becky
Animal Fiesta
Carnival Time
Quackers
THE ICY FINGERS
By Ian Proctor
It was a cold grey morning as Zeb looked across the valley.
He was overjoyed for he had just married Kadras daughter Mela and he had just been promoted to head sheep farmer over Kadras and the other employees. Just as he was about to get up an Icy blast of wind caught him straight between the shoulder blades.
The unexpected shock made his legs go numb and he found that he could not move them
His body began to stiffen up at an alarming rate.
On hearing footsteps crumbling on the stony ground he looked up to see Kadras coming towards him.
He was In a hurry.
He was a big tall man with a flaming red beard and very fiery eyes.
Before Zeb could speak a heavy hand smote a stinging blow across his face.
Where, are my sheep what have you done, to them?.
His face a mask of hate he pointed an accusing finger at Zeb I sell my work, to the factory.
Without my sheep I am nothing,.
Zeb looked at him deeply hurt and shocked by what he had done.
He answered In a humble voice But Kadras I was only going to round, them up from the hill top above me but an Icy, blast of wind caught me and I can’t move my body,.
Kadras was by now disgusted as he angrily turned on his heel and walked rapidly away.
Kadras help, me he cried but their was no answer only the echo of his own voice coming back to him.
From the stillness of the valley he began to think of Mela and If Kadras would tell her what had happened.
He tried to sit up from the stone by heaving and twisting his body from side to side.
But the more he tried the more exhausted he became.
His head slumped on to his chest and he was soon fast asleep.
He was awakened some time later by a bumping feeling.
Opening his eyes he could just make out the crude shape of a stretcher with a hard parchment stretched tightly over him.
Two bamboo poles with a leather jacket serving as a pillow made up for the rest of It.
It was dawn and just beginning to get light.
He recognised the two men who were carrying him.
One was a small bandy man called Zico who was a stone carver and lived alone.
In a