On the Makaloa Mat LondonJack Published bbaafjkv

john9221

I expected no answer — talking out loud was a habit I had picked up since
returning here — but somewhere in the woods east of the housean owl hooted. Just onceas if to
say it was rightget through tomorrow and things will clarify. The hoot almost brought something
else to mindsome association that was ultimately too gauzy to grasp. I tried once or twicebut the
only thing I could come up with was the title of a wonderful old novel I Heard the Owl Call My
Name.
I rolled forward off the float and into the watergrasping my knees against my chest like a kid
doing a cannonball. I stayed under as long as I coulduntil the air in my lungs started to feel like
some hot bottled liquidand then I broke the surface. I trod water about thirty yards out until I had
my breath backthen set my sights on the Green Lady and stroked for shore.
I waded outstarted up the railroad tiesthen stopped and went back to The Street. I stood there
for a momentgathering my couragethen walked to where the birch curved her graceful belly out
over the water. I grasped that white curve as I had on Friday evening and looked into the water. I
was sure I'd see the childhis dead eyes looking up at me from his bloating brown faceand that my
mouth and throat wo [link widoczny dla zalogowanych]yilai:
[link widoczny dla zalogowanych]

theykeepthebrainfromshort-circuitingunder
pressure