This week I’m in love with …

Barkskins and Ticking Bomb

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One morning an old man, his back bent beneath a bundle, his glaring eyes roving left and right, came ricketing out of the pollen clouds from the west trail, which led, as far as Rene knew, to the end of the world.

Annie Proulx, Barkskins

Perfection.

Pump it up.

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