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Mountain to Mountain

Bag om Mountain to Mountain

The air was cold as it whipped up the sides of the hill and stung my nose as I held my dead wife to my chest. My oldest son James and I had come up to the top of the small hill among the ravines to bury her, so that she may overlook the beautiful land of her people. The muddy streaks left on my cheeks and neck from the tears and the trek blended into my collar as I slowly rocked back and forth, clinging to her this one last time. James, a few feet away had his head turned, facing the cloud scraped sky. He was ashamed of me, I knew, but the grief had overcome me at last. I had shown my weakness to him, and he would never forgive me. His face was set to the east, his head down, but even from my vantage, I could see his shoulders shaking. He would never show it to me, however, and I am sure that he blamed me for this.We had brought a spade and a shovel on our small mule drawn cart, and a small white cross to place at her head. She was clothed in her Sunday dress, her only real dress, the one I had married her in eight years ago. My heart broken within me, she had been the wife of my youth. She was Crow Indian, dark skinned and dark haired, like the night. I had loved her as the sun loves the moon. She bore me five beautiful sons, each one more comely than the last. Now, James, our firstborn, turned to me. He looked like his mother's father. High cheeks and hair like a horse mane. He had no more tears on his face, but the puffiness in his eyes betrayed him. He hid his pain well, as I could not. His grandfather would be proud of him.He took the few steps down to me, near the spot where we would bury her. "Come Father, she returns to Old Man Coyote, we should help her on her journey." He handed me a shovel. He was already a man. Oliver Milton Kramper looks just like every runaway boy in the 80's would look like... But he is not a runaway, nor is he a boy. He is perhaps the oldest man in the world, or so he thought... Until he meets her... And things take a turn for the weird. Join Pauly Hart in this exiting story of immortal beings and vampires; if you dare, that is.

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  • Sprog:
  • Engelsk
  • ISBN:
  • 9798634112633
  • Indbinding:
  • Paperback
  • Sideantal:
  • 78
  • Udgivet:
  • 5. april 2020
  • Størrelse:
  • 152x229x5 mm.
  • Vægt:
  • 127 g.
Leveringstid: 2-3 uger
Forventet levering: 13. november 2024

Beskrivelse af Mountain to Mountain

The air was cold as it whipped up the sides of the hill and stung my nose as I held my dead wife to my chest. My oldest son James and I had come up to the top of the small hill among the ravines to bury her, so that she may overlook the beautiful land of her people. The muddy streaks left on my cheeks and neck from the tears and the trek blended into my collar as I slowly rocked back and forth, clinging to her this one last time. James, a few feet away had his head turned, facing the cloud scraped sky. He was ashamed of me, I knew, but the grief had overcome me at last. I had shown my weakness to him, and he would never forgive me. His face was set to the east, his head down, but even from my vantage, I could see his shoulders shaking. He would never show it to me, however, and I am sure that he blamed me for this.We had brought a spade and a shovel on our small mule drawn cart, and a small white cross to place at her head. She was clothed in her Sunday dress, her only real dress, the one I had married her in eight years ago. My heart broken within me, she had been the wife of my youth. She was Crow Indian, dark skinned and dark haired, like the night. I had loved her as the sun loves the moon. She bore me five beautiful sons, each one more comely than the last. Now, James, our firstborn, turned to me. He looked like his mother's father. High cheeks and hair like a horse mane. He had no more tears on his face, but the puffiness in his eyes betrayed him. He hid his pain well, as I could not. His grandfather would be proud of him.He took the few steps down to me, near the spot where we would bury her. "Come Father, she returns to Old Man Coyote, we should help her on her journey." He handed me a shovel. He was already a man. Oliver Milton Kramper looks just like every runaway boy in the 80's would look like... But he is not a runaway, nor is he a boy. He is perhaps the oldest man in the world, or so he thought... Until he meets her... And things take a turn for the weird. Join Pauly Hart in this exiting story of immortal beings and vampires; if you dare, that is.

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