Sample V-03: The Dust of Oakhaven
The town of Oakhaven sat in the belly of the American Midwest, a place where the horizon was a flat, unwavering line and the wind smelled of damp corn and old regrets. In 1912, the town lived by a singular, unspoken clock: the arrival of the harvest and the judgment of the church. Arthur Penhaligon was a man of the soil, a farmer whose hands were as calloused as the earth he tilled. He was a...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews