One Against the Moon

That morning began like all the preceding mornings of the past two years with the tinny jangling of the little alarm clock on Robin Carew's bureau. Opening his black eyes, he struggled into a sitting position on the narrow bed, reached out his hand and turned off the alarm. He yawned, swung his feet to the floor, rubbed his eyes. It was half past seven again of another workday morning.

© 2018 Perennial Press (Rafbók): 9781531262709

Útgáfudagur

Rafbók: 24 februari 2018