potatomasherjim

THE TALE OF LOST PROPHET The racetrack. A place where the rich and well to do gather to show off their wealth and status displayed through handsome tuxedo’s and top hats and dresses laced with sparkly objects to dazzle the eye. Yet among them in the top box were two people, one who looked quite comfortable in his seat, a fat balding Italian man who seemed to radiate charisma without even trying and a man who looked so out of place that it raised the eyebrows of many passers by. The man was dressed in shabby clothes, a jacket at least two sizes too big for him and sandy blonde hair that looked as if it hadn’t been washed for weeks