I said. “The Greenway,” Harmon corrected. “There is only one. It’s … magnificent, a marvel for the ages. It’s the philosopher’s stone, the Holy Grail, a magic artifact in an age of dull skepticism and anorexic wit.” Harmon snorted in disgust as he climbed off the floor and then winced in pain fro...
The streets were teeming streams of faces, noise and commotion: different languages, shouting, street vendors hawking, whistles, music from voices and instruments, shouts of anger and bursts of laughter, the barking of dogs, the shrill calls of exotic birds, the mouthwatering scents of cooking fr...
Cecil Dann, FBI special agent in charge, stepped into an interrogation room in the Atlanta Police Department. Jimmie Aussapile was alone in the room, deprived of his baseball cap, his belt, and even his chaw. An empty Styrofoam cup sat in front of the trucker, and he was sitting back in his chair...
He rode up Prosperity, passing the narrow maze-like alleys of Bick Street that made up most of Johnny Town, on the right. Prosperity became less of a road and more of a rutted path as his horse, a darkly dabbled paint named Muha, began to climb up the winding trail. “Muha” meant “moon” in Mutt’s ...