Whitney FI

42%
Flag icon
Our sail was now set, and, with the still rising wind, we rushed along; the boat going with such madness through the water, that the lee oars could scarcely be worked rapidly enough to escape being torn from the row-locks. Soon we were running through a suffusing wide veil of mist; neither ship nor boat to be seen.
Whitney FI
Liminal space.
Moby Dick
Rate this book
Clear rating
Open Preview