A rivulet branched from the bolt’s main tributary and grabbed him. It fused the quadrants of his skull, vised his teeth and sheared the tip of his tongue. Though he resisted, it pried his fingers apart and the music escaped once more into the storm.
Spitting pain and blood, the man tracked the bolt across the valley and watched it explode at some point far beyond the distant peaks.
END CHAPTER 6
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In Praise of Home Cooking by Liana Krissoff (Weekend Cooking)
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[image: Yellow book cover shows a white bowl with two eggs and a whisk]The
new spring cookbooks are starting to roll into the bookstores and into my
kitche...
This is a great idea. I'm going to have to go back and read from the beginning.
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