In those first years the roads were peopled with refugees shrouded up in their clothing. Wearing masks and goggles, sitting in their rags by the side of the road like ruined aviators.
…from Cormac McCarthy‘s perfect novel, The Road.
In those first years the roads were peopled with refugees shrouded up in their clothing. Wearing masks and goggles, sitting in their rags by the side of the road like ruined aviators.
…from Cormac McCarthy‘s perfect novel, The Road.