Y’know, I’m starting to have more sympathy for Ahab.
I, too, feel like cursing the sun, and never looking skyward again, as it beats down and boils the air around me. That is to say: it’s getting hot again, and I hate it. Supposed to get above 90 for the next few days, and I will be melting into a puddle, so we’d better get into this chapter before that happens.
Continue reading “Chapter 119: The Candles”
The Beige Moth 