The Pink Galleon Sailed

It was a beautiful texas spring afternoon with terracotta light and a breeze that felt like someone lifting a sheet off you. Stew said they went back downstairs in the rossiter's back yard. Through his closed eyes, the sun blanketed him and isolated him from everything in the orld. After a while, he turned his head to one side and opened one eye at a time. His hands were shaking, but only a bit worse than usual. He liked the alchemy by means of which people who looked like plausible new englanders when they boarded a plane became unmistakably texan by the time they stepped off. All the people tumbling out of the plan from b