The Prince of Frogtown

This is so good I have to type it myself. Forgive the mistakes. Bragg's new one, start of chaper two:



I was still a little boy when I saw that first sacrifice, that first empty sleeve. I was rich then. A pocketful of birthday nickles weighed me down as I chased after imaginary Indians from the saddle of my dime-store pony. It was stuck hard in the cement in front of the A&P, but I was gaining on them, one nickel at a time, when the one-armed man walked by. I was barefoot in town on a weekday, so it had to be a payday, and it had to be summer. The linoleum was cold beneath my feet as I followed the man inside, curious and staring. He was thin, his pant billowing from his waist, his face…