"He had divested himself of the little cloaked godlet and his other amulets in a place where they would not be found in his lifetime and he'd taken for talisman the simple human heart within him."
Dear friend now in the dusty clockless hours of the town when the streets lie black and steaming in the wake of watertrucks and now when the drunk and the homeless have washed up in the lee of walls in alleys or abandoned lots and cats go forth highshouldered and lean in the grim perimeters about, now in these sootblacked brick or cobbled corridors where lightwire shadows make a gothic harp of cellar doors no soul shall walk save you.
|Did I miss something??||23||248||Jun 22, 2013 11:20AM|
|On the Southern L...: McCarthy's style - complaints, praise, etc.||27||101||Sep 23, 2012 09:37AM|
|The Bookhouse Boys: Suttree||23||27||Aug 06, 2012 10:47AM|
|On the Southern L...: Suttree - First Impressions (please mark your spoilers)||15||53||Jun 09, 2012 07:48AM|
|On the Southern L...: the several page "Dear friend" prologue||11||63||May 22, 2012 09:40AM|