by Jordan Dotson | Jul 8, 2017 | Beautiful Prose, Stuff I wrote
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. by Jordan Dotson | Mar 16, 2016 | Beautiful Prose
They crossed before the sun and vanished one by one and reappeared again and they were black in the sun and they rode out of that vanished sea like burnt phantoms with the legs of the animals kicking up the spume that was not real and they were lost in the sun and... by Jordan Dotson | Oct 1, 2015 | Things I wish I'd written
That night they rode through a region electric and wild where strange shapes of soft blue fire ran over the metal of the horses’ trappings and the wagonwheels rolled in hoops of fire and little shapes of pale blue light came to perch in the ears of the horses... by Jordan Dotson | May 20, 2014 | Beautiful Prose, Things I wish I'd written
People were always getting ready for tomorrow. I didn’t believe in that. Tomorrow wasn’t getting ready for them. It didn’t even know they were there. …from The Road, by a fellow redneck from the Southern Appalachians, Cormac...