The stallion whose hoofprints were spotted near our camp on the Muddy River. He'd been checking out our mares during the night.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
A bang, not a whimper
Two months into L.'s retirement, and I'm finished with the stockpiling of books. No more book purchases! Or at least, no purcha...
-
(See also Musee des Beaux Arts ) As far as mental anguish goes, the old painters were no fools. They understood how the mind, the freakiest ...
-
Lou wondered where his information would go when he died. Would filaments of learning plant patterns on earth? Would his brain train the sin...
No comments:
Post a Comment