Adrian Mendizabal

17%
Flag icon
While I stood at the bottom, trembling with fever and chill, Olga pushed the earth back into the pit until I was buried up to my neck. Then she trampled the soil around me and beat it with the shovel until the surface was very smooth. After making sure there were no anthills in the vicinity, she made three smoky fires of peat.
The Painted Bird
Rate this book
Clear rating
Open Preview