Kenneth Bernoska

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As the wagons went forward and the sun sank lower, a sweep of red carnelian-coloured hills lying at the foot of the mountains came into view; they curved like two arms about a depression in the plain; and in that depression was Santa Fé, at last! A thin, wavering adobe town … a green plaza … at one end a church with two earthen towers that rose high above the flatness.
Death Comes for the Archbishop
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