The Incredible Journey of Thomas Johnson

 

Copyright© 2017 – Nicholas Hall

 

Prologue

 

"And for a long time yet, led by some wondrous power,

I am fated to journey hand in hand with my strange heroes

And to survey the surging immensity of life,

to survey it through the laughter that all can see and

through the tears unseen and unknown by anyone."

(Nikolai Vasilievich Gogol)

 

Voices, little boy voices, muttering softly, quietly, intruded on my awakening consciousness. "Thank God," I thought, "at least I'm not dead."

Hopefully that was not the case, but I really didn't know for certain. I'd had little interest in religion or an afterlife up until this point in time, so I hadn't given it much thought. What I did know, my head hurt like hell; a thousand hammers pounded on it and in it and the rest of my body ached unbearably. Every muscle, every bone seemed tortured; it was as if I'd been ripped asunder and glued back together again, with lousy glue I might add! If, I thought, this is what the rack of medieval times felt like, I really pitied the poor condemned people subjected to it.

 

 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or locales is entirely coincidental.