Few of his ever classmates cared at all about the creek, so it was one time in his day when he could be alone with his thoughts, away from the ignoran... babble and jeers of his peers .To put it bluntly: Connor was a nerd. The unruly dyed hair and lack of glasses were somewhat atypical of the stereotype, but otherwise he fit quite well. He was a lanky and somewhat ungainly boy, an excellent student in every class but gym. Girls never noticed him, and the guys either laughed at him, or tried to. ”“Or so he says.”She laughed again. "Oh no, he definitely is, trust me!" That caught my attention, but when I expected her to elaborate she put me off. "You'll understand more in a few minutes when we look at the stuff they sent home with me today."“If you say so.” I frowned. “Hey, here’s a question for you; how does he take all these pictures when he’s in them? That can’t be easy.”"It is, really. He has a tiny remote in his hand – usually, his right hand – that works two cameras on tripods,. And we went inside the shop.from behind the curtain comes out a man, and asked in broken Swedish what he could help us with.later on he told us that he was from Eritrea.my wife tells me after a short look around that this shop was a lot cleaner than the others.and that she was ok with this shop.so she tells him what she would like him to change her piercings that she has in her nippels.and he invited us to a room behind, and tells my wife to undress her top and to sit down in the chair.And he. . but..." she pouted."No time for this. Run!" Mom called, but only a moment later the doorback to the trophy room closed shut."Oh, look who's here!" came a man's voice, and a figure walked in oursight, on the balcony. At a first glance, the Curator was an averageman, the kind you'd expect to see going to work in a suit in themorning. He sure didn't have the look you'd expect from a powerfulsorcerer, in his white shirt and circular glasses. But his eyes burnedwith hatred and malice.He looked.