Monday, January 16, 2017

ARRIVAL

Surrounded by rye fields, the train station consisted of a platform and a ticket booth. Above the birch grove that sprawled between my raring-to-go group and Vishenky, the golden cross of the church sparkled in the blinding late-morning sun. The calm air smelled of cut grass and cornflowers. Only Luke’s whistling disturbed the countryside’s tranquility. Each trill sliced my sleep-deprived brain into pieces. 

SOUL OF THE UNBORN     ON AMAZON



 


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