Never have I doubted my soundness of mind as often as I did on that first night, when the bird-woman and her wards came to save me from the madhouse.
I watched the eight-story apartment building on 161st, about half a block from Melrose Avenue.
Petr Kliment held Kristína, his six-month-old granddaughter, on a patch of grass on the shore of the Jizera River.
It was the Bad Godesberg incident that gave the proof, though the German authorities had no earthly means of knowing this.
Dear Amelia, There was an attempt to escape from the jail last night and a small riot ensued. Most unusual.
In September 1970, two sites squared off for the title of the center of the world: Piccadilly Circus, in London, and Dam Square, in Amsterdam.
My favourite time of day is ‘magic hour’, when the sun takes a dive behind the craggy mountain ranges and the sky is painted a stunning purple-pink.
They must think I don’t have long left, because today they allow the vicar in.
Balancing a tray loaded with dirty glassware, Darrien Summers dodged the masked men and women in evening dress as he made his way through the dining room.
At the bang of a car door out in the street, Katy glanced out of the bedroom window.
The morning light was disappointing, spilling faintly across the stone floor and making very little of the shattered bowl or its contents.
Great Achilles. Brilliant Achilles, shining Achilles, godlike Achilles . . . How the epithets pile up.
