Jim

50%
Flag icon
ever saw of him. I stood in the lane until the final echo of the wheels vanished rattling in the distance. My desolation was complete. As sundered from my root and branch as a falling leaf fluttering on eddies of air, I was adrift between that which was past and those things yet to come. Great boiling clouds hung on the far horizon.
The Confessions of Nat Turner
Rate this book
Clear rating
Open Preview