She'd rewritten her story. I didn't figure much in it now, or as a means, not an end, a miscalculation . . . . But for me, the high bare hills— especially that cut, where the power-lines soar out over emptiness— still seemed the place w [...]
She'd rewritten her story. I didn't figure much in it now, or as a means, not an end, a miscalculation . . . . But for me, the high bare hills— especially that cut, where the power-lines soar out over emptiness— still seemed the place w [...]