We can’t see all the words.
There was silence for a moment, then they both heard the swing-shift horn - blaring all the way from Boeing Field. By then, it was that part of the day that is officially morning but which any dunce can see is purest night.
It seems to him enough to simply be awake like that bird soaring in the darkness that sleepers have abandoned, to be walking away from the lighted corner, down the empty, silent streets they’ve left to him, whistling as he passes dark windows, not sure where he’s going, and in no hurry to find out.
The human heart, transformed by the alienness and uniqueness of this northern world, emerges radically transformed by the passage through this place, and finds itself having to readjust to the non-Arctic world upon departure.
The folks in the hinterlands were just getting even.
She drove through Canada, into the state of the lion.
Normally, we would pronounce “hermitage” with only the first syllable stressed. On the valley floor you walk over unearthly piles of rocks, and interspersed in the manzanita and wildflowers are such signs of the past as rusted old pieces broken off the great iron flumes, piled together like forgotten rubbish, yet of a piece with the landscape.
Everything around me grew blurred and opaline.
A tight-laced chest and a good disposition cannot go together.
Now it was all over.
There was silence for a moment, then they both heard the swing-shift horn - blaring all the way from Boeing Field. By then, it was that part of the day that is officially morning but which any dunce can see is purest night.
It seems to him enough to simply be awake like that bird soaring in the darkness that sleepers have abandoned, to be walking away from the lighted corner, down the empty, silent streets they’ve left to him, whistling as he passes dark windows, not sure where he’s going, and in no hurry to find out.
The human heart, transformed by the alienness and uniqueness of this northern world, emerges radically transformed by the passage through this place, and finds itself having to readjust to the non-Arctic world upon departure.
The folks in the hinterlands were just getting even.
She drove through Canada, into the state of the lion.
Normally, we would pronounce “hermitage” with only the first syllable stressed. On the valley floor you walk over unearthly piles of rocks, and interspersed in the manzanita and wildflowers are such signs of the past as rusted old pieces broken off the great iron flumes, piled together like forgotten rubbish, yet of a piece with the landscape.
Everything around me grew blurred and opaline.
A tight-laced chest and a good disposition cannot go together.
Now it was all over.
