There were rolls of sod that steamed in the sunlight—my father carried them from the car, set them down on the soil, and gave them a push, unfurling each one like a long green carpet. For a few weeks they showed at the seams, but then the
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“Lives had been spent here—people had loved one another and eaten and drunk and laughed and betrayed and been afraid of death—and not a single fragment of that remained. White stones, black shadows.”
― The Secret Commonwealth
― The Secret Commonwealth
“Le soleil noir de la Mélancolie.”
― The Secret Commonwealth
― The Secret Commonwealth
Amanda’s 2025 Year in Books
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