Rainey screwed himself around in his chair to see us better, or to let us see him better.
I was sitting next to him, a little to the rear. Above the porch rail his profile stood out sharp against the twilight gray of the lake, though there was nothing sharp about the profile itself. It had been smoothly rounded by thirty-five or more years of comfortable living.
"I wouldn't have a dog that was cat-shy," he wound up. "What good is a dog, or a man, that's afraid of things?"
A Redder Harvest
I see Gove has backed down on climate change and it's back in the curriculum again.
My book is now for sale
At the moment I have set up this journal so that only friends can comment. I hate doing this, but I was just getting too much Russian spam.