A book quote for a rainy Saturday....
"I ran. A path seemed to open before me into the woods, some small track to a little town, a forgotten village.
I sensed the watcher—keeping pace with me in the thickening forest, maneuvering silently through the clasping vines, the slapping branches and heavy windfall logs—close to me at times.
Then my poor left foot betrayed me, catching on an errant vine and sliding helplessly on slick rock. I tumbled into a bramblebush, pushing Christian out of harm’s way before I plunged headfirst into the misbegotten backwater of a summer-shrunk creek.
I pulled myself out of the deep and stinking sludge, clawed my way up the granite, and reached for my crying son, his blanket caught precariously in brambles. But my foot lodged in a fold of robe, and then I fell without stopping, slamming backward against the great unforgiving rock.
The distant thrumming of the hooves still shuddered through me as the stone caught my head on the way down.”
— from the novel SINFUL FOLK