Behind the Staircase

by Michael Peterson

But there was a dwarf, Shorty of course, all head and ass, the meanest bastard I ever encountered; he made Dickens’s Quilp look like Little Nell. But he was darling. Vicious too. Pure Evil. He lied, stole, cheated, and barely made it out of Nash alive—many thought him a snitch. Probably, but I missed him when he shipped.