…a rush of wind comes up the alley and almost pushes me over, the noise is like the sea crashing onto rocks. I steady myself against the damp wall and turn to see Korakas. He stands tall, blocking the feeble light from the houses on the street. He has his arms raised, as I had done and he is screeching at them. His eyes are alight, his hair is flying in the strange wind and his features seem angular. Suddenly he is beside me and holds me close to him, snatching me away from the two men in front of me. He sweeps his other arm in front of his face and sends one of the men sprawling to the floor, where he lies limp, blood trickling from a cut on his head. The other man drops to his knees and crawls towards his friend, sobbing and begging. The others are crossing themselves and half run half crawl to aid their friends at our feet. Korakas sweeps his coat across in front of my face and moves towards the American. The men scrabble to get out of his way. He holds me around my waist. I can feel my legs weaken and I am glad of his support. . . . . . . . . . .
from: Korakas by Anne Holloway – a novel about control