Bugs
Bugs William tossed his felt hat into the mud upon hearing the cheers of found gold coming from the next claim over. “Those fucking chinks have found gold again!?” he cursed . William’s long leather boots were fixed in sludge , and sweat mixed with a light rain were trailing lines through the harsh creases of his face. Creases too deep for a man of around thirty years. “Ease up Billy, some folk are just luckier than others” replied Matthias. Matthias had known William since the i r arrival together into Port Phillip. He was a much softer man than William. Matthias grew up on the east side of London in a small apartment complex wedged between two decrepit buildings like book ends threatening to crush the books. He’d been convicted of assault after getting beaten up in an alleyway, the kind Jack the Ripper would have salivated over. A lucky kick to the groin caused his assailant to crumple and, reaching for the rain-soaked cobblesto