My Devil Tibb: Part One

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I first met Tibb nigh-on twenty years ago, near Gouldshey stone-pit.  He came to me in the shape of a lad, dressed up all fancy in a black and brown coat.  I thought he was some young master who’d got himself lost ’til he beckoned me over and demanded, “Give me thy soul!”

“Why would I do that?” I asked him, staring at the face of a fallen angel.

“If ye do, thou can have all thy wants,” says he.

I thought on his words and requested he utter his name.

“Tibb,” he told me – and I knew then it was a spirit or devil stood afore me.

I pondered the offer.  Such a promise was mighty tempting indeed – and so I verily agreed.