The eastern sky was red as coals in a forge, lighting up the flats along the river. Dew had wet the million needles of the chaparral, and when the rim of the sun edged over...
—Larry McMurtry
Scott could feel the contents of his stomach flip over and over on themselves. He turned to the side and retched, frothy yellow bile spilled out onto the newspaper covered floor, filling the room with...
—R.D. Ronald
Scott glanced at his watch but didn’t register what it said. The notion of time had become as absurd as the quietly glowing trees.
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