The Physiognomy Read Online Free PDF Page A

books and the third held a sliding glass partition that opened onto a balcony. Once inside, he moved to a small table that held a bottle of absence and two glasses. I stared at some of the titles on the shelves and before long found four of my twenty or more published treatises. I was sure he hadn’t read Miscreants and Morons—A Philosophical Solution, since he had not yet committed suicide.
    â€œYou’ve read my work?” I asked as he handed me a drink.
    â€œVery interesting,” he said.
    â€œWhat did it tell you?” I asked.
    â€œWell …” he said, and fell silent.
    â€œDid it tell you I don’t care to be toyed with by an ape such as you?” I asked.
    â€œWhat do you mean, your honor?”
    I threw my glass of absence in his eyes, and, when he cried out and began rubbing them, I drove my fist into his throat. He reeled backward, wheezing noises escaping his mouth, and eventually fell onto the floor where he writhed to catch his breath. I hurried over to him. “Help me,” he whispered, and I kicked him in the side of the head, drawing blood. Before he could plead again, I stuck the heel of my boot into his gaping mouth.
    â€œI should kill you for sending Beaton,” I said.
    He tried to nod.
    â€œTake one more liberty with me, and I will relay to the Master that this entire town is in need of extermination.”
    He tried to nod again.
    I left him there on the floor, opened the door to the balcony, and stepped outside, hoping the breeze would dry my perspiration. I abhorred violence, but I was called to use it occasionally. In this case, as a symbolic gesture to slap the town awake after a long dream of ignorance.
    A few minutes passed before the mayor came staggering out to join me. His head was bleeding and there was vomit on his shirt front. He had a glass of absence which he sipped in between groans. When I looked over at him he leaned back against the railing and raised his glass to me, “A first-rate beating,” he said, and smiled.
    â€œUnfortunately, it was what the moment called for,” I told him.
    â€œBut if you look out here, your honor, you will see something,” he said, pointing into the dark.
    â€œI can’t see a thing,” I said.
    â€œWe are now at the northern border of the town. Out there, a few yards away, is the beginning of a vast, unexplored forest that may go on forever. It is believed that the Earthly Paradise lies somewhere deep in its heart.” He took a handkerchief from his vest pocket and laid it against the cut on his head.
    â€œWhat does this have to do with me?” I asked.
    â€œOne year we sent an expedition of seasoned miners in an attempt to discover the celestial garden, and all perished but one. He barely made it back alive and when he wandered into town two years later, dazed and broken, he told stories about demons in the Beyond. ‘With horns and wings and ridged backs, like in a child’s catechism,’ he said. They had also encountered a fire-breathing cat, a black reptilian hound with tusks, and herds of a type of reindeer whose antlers grow together into nests where a bright red bird usually took up residence.”
    â€œI’m not beyond another painful encounter. Get to the point,” I said.
    â€œThe point is, you must understand the people of Anamasobia. There is a certain sense of humor here born from living in the shadow of the ungodly. For the past few years, the demons have been spotted on the northern border of town. One of them flew out of a fog one night and snatched up Father Garland’s dog. You see, in the face of this threat, we must continue, so we laugh as often as possible.” He nodded to me when he finished as if that would help me to understand.
    â€œGet cleaned up,” I told him, “and meet me downstairs. I will address the townspeople.”
    â€œVery good, your honor,” he said, and then spun quickly around. “Did you