He offered me his hand. “Here” he said, “let me help you up. Are you hurt?” “No, Im fine. Just a little bruised . And a bit embarrassed.” ... smiled up at his as I accepted his hand. He pulled me up easily. Now I stood in from of him. I am barely over 5 feet. Mr. Hardy stood over 6 feet, I am sure. My hand was still in his, as I just looked up at him for a moment. “Well, uh… no harm done them..” he said awkwardly. He was looking down at me now. Something about his eyes caught my attention. What. " It made total sense, but at the time I had no idea.All that mattered at that point was that from where I was standing, the mirror reflected part of the next room, and framed in the mirror stood my mystery man from the yard. I could make out more detail this time, though not much. His face and body seemed to be decorated in elaborate patterns using what could have been paint or even tattoos. Some of the patterns, though, were scar tissue. I stood looking at him for a moment, and he seemed. More

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