“Around midnight I finally dozed, drifting on a 1950 memory where I rode through the dark of another night in the front seat of an old Buick. Curled next to my father, I’d been sleeping when I was awakened by… — Echo Heron Copy Share Image
“On nights like this, when he rode out from the dark, silent house to the dark, deserted park, he could forget. He could be nothing but a solitary rider on a fast horse, wind in his face and the world… — Suzanne Enoch Copy Share Image
