“A fitting gateway to hell, my dear Maeve” “Its like some gothic cathedral” they were awed, each column of the bridge had two elements, so that one could look along the length of the massive brick bridge, where the pillars marched shorter and ever shorter up the side of the …
Swimming to wakefulness and the sound of the alarm. The roaring bell clapper. The sound stopped, revealed the distant hints of morning; birds gossiping in the streets, milk bottles chattering in crates, the milkman’s inane whistle. Dave Roper, yawning, tried to sense what sort of day it was; sniffing for …