Sublime

Roy was young, and not that wise to anything, but in that moment, any idiot could see that he was fucked. How exactly, he wasn’t sure. He just knew that once he got to the bottom of the stairs, there would be no going back up. Roy didn’t say a word when they handcuffed him, looked at his mother as they read him his rights. She told him through tear

What about the South? His body recoiled. Ugh. Not that. As a white man he would have plenty of place, in fact more than he had here in the P.S.A. But … he did not want that kind of place.

“Isak Dinesen’s Out of Africa.”

That Thomas had worked for the Chronicle since 1976 was easily established, as was the fact that he’d published three brief novels since that date. Out of a sense of delicacy Carleton never mentioned that he owned all three of these, and found them elegant and elliptical, couched in prose that had the cadence of the King James Bible, and concerned

When you are a westerner living on the East Coast, this is just the sort of folksy anecdote the city slickers expect you to tell. But I was the worst Montanan in history.