The Digger's in town.
The Digger looks like you, the Digger looks like me. He walks down the wintry streets the way anybody would, shoulders drawn together against the damp December air.
He's not tall and not short, he's not heavy and not thin.
His fingers in dark gloves might be pudgy but they might not. His feet seem large but maybe that's just the size of his shoes.
If you glanced at his eyes you wouldn't notice the shape or the color but only that they don't seem quite human, and if the Digger glanced at you
while you were looking at him, his eyes might be the very last thing you ever saw.
He wears a long,...