DRINK / Tom Foster

PP. 128: “Her hands were all twisted out of shape. When she took hold of a mop or a broom handle the hands looked like the dried stems of an old creeping vine clinging to a tree”; “It was past seven o’clock at night when the grandmother came home with the pocket-book held tightly in her old hands and she was so excited she could scarcely speak”;

PP. 134:”. When George Willard was insistent he put out his hand, laying it on the older boy’s arm, and tried to explain.”



%d bloggers like this: