The Faded Root
Chapter One I am looking back now from the wet cold of the cellar, where the water has risen to my ankles and the silence is so heavy it presses against my eardrums. It is strange to remember the heat of the surface, that endless, sun-bleached glare of the sugar cane rows stretching out like hillsides of polytunnel plastic, a heat that never broke, a heat that had no night to offer relief. I...
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