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Excerpt from The Winged Child, chapter ten: 

Alice rested. She didn't fall asleep but stilled her mind to a place deeper than sleep and let the day flow over and through her with the delicious intensity of a dream. She saw sights too far for  eyes and heard sounds too distant for ears. Away at the foot of the mountain she watched a wide river flash and glint under the sun. In a village along its near bank people whose names she didn't know talked and laughed. Eastward toward the Republic, nothing but a wall of smoke and cloud, laced with lightning. It was like looking at the edge of the world, or the end of one. Overhead, clouds raced by swift as eagles in the blue sky. The blue darkened as Alice watched, a star appeared, then another, while shadows gathered and settled around her dense as stone. 

Henry's books.


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