What I remember most about that dark early morning of crouching on the prairie is the rhythmic sound of pounding. It was so loud I wondered if someone had put a microphone near the skinny legs of the ...
There was no orchestra, but the dancers’ legs moved with the precision of an expert ballet. The three men in the automobile on a dirt road cleaving an expanse of brown Saskatchewan prairie all saw the ...
What I remember most about that dark early morning of crouching on the prairie is the rhythmic sound of pounding. It was so loud I wondered if someone had put a microphone near the skinny legs of the ...
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