A morning’s grapefruit sun plays light across her back like gold leaves with a sword across her lap singing dirges for her still child typhoid...
I could tell you how many myriad coins have rolled under the register over the years lapsing into dust and stillness, like forgotten library books...
i read this book about four times a year and i can always get insight from this story of a trans-pacific voyage with an adult tiger where pi...
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