The Bird Man, Swamplandia!, Karen Russell
A puffy white face on which, compared to the boots and the patchwork outfit, looked almost ordinary. The man was blinking violently down at me, caught in the light, his pale lips twisted in a grimace…This man’s age was impossible for me to guess. He was younger than my grandfather and older than my brother. His eyes were something terrifying…Bright eyes in a shingled face…The Bird Man frowned, which turned his long nose into a blade. Light caught on his whistle and in the soft, wet curls of hair around his ears, but his eyes were dull as gunmetal. He’d scratched his thin hair into a pompadour—it looked as though every wire were coming disconnected in his brain. (Suggested by phaunosfaunus)

The Bird Man, Swamplandia!, Karen Russell

A puffy white face on which, compared to the boots and the patchwork outfit, looked almost ordinary. The man was blinking violently down at me, caught in the light, his pale lips twisted in a grimace…This man’s age was impossible for me to guess. He was younger than my grandfather and older than my brother. His eyes were something terrifying…Bright eyes in a shingled face…The Bird Man frowned, which turned his long nose into a blade. Light caught on his whistle and in the soft, wet curls of hair around his ears, but his eyes were dull as gunmetal. He’d scratched his thin hair into a pompadour—it looked as though every wire were coming disconnected in his brain. (Suggested by phaunosfaunus)