The Golden Ritual
I It is a fact of the coast that the wind does not ask permission before it strips the paint from the siding, a truth Homer Barlow had learned in the summer of his forty-second year when the school board voted to close the for-profit branch and left him, the janitor, to clean out the rooms of a future that had already been foreclosed. The haze was so thick that the far shore was merely a rumor,...
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