“‘You’re too late. She’s my wife!’
‘No, she’s your widow.’
His revolver cracked[…]”
There are moments when reading literature where I can’t help but talk to the book like a sports fan talks to the tv:
“Atta boy, go Carruthers!”
“‘You’re too late. She’s my wife!’
‘No, she’s your widow.’
His revolver cracked[…]”
There are moments when reading literature where I can’t help but talk to the book like a sports fan talks to the tv:
“Atta boy, go Carruthers!”