"Ten years ago, at Michaelmas, the early autumn hours were...

"Ten years ago, at Michaelmas, the early autumn hours were fading into dusk. The day was dying slow. I had fallen off the straight and narrow into a place of harsh rocks and broken brambles, like the story of Satan falling from heaven on Saint Michael’s Day. But I had fallen from no heaven, and those who pursued me were no angels."

— from the novel SINFUL FOLK

PHOTO SOURCE: Morning glow