Aaron Urbanski

17%
Flag icon
Ice hung from the roof eaves, catching dribbles of melt to become longer and stouter pickets of jagged freeze stretched across the window above the sink. The sun was weak in the west, a faint smudge behind middling clouds, and low. Soup stock from deer bones simmered on the stove and steamed a comforting scent.
Winter's Bone
Rate this book
Clear rating
Open Preview