A Lower Deep - A Self Novel About 3300 wds
Page 20
The blood of the man named Yashua had dried on my hands.
Self asked, Now what?
We got back into the Jaguar and sat there for a while until the moon began to rise. It was no longer a wolf's moon but now shone cold and harsh and brilliant. Dad sat contentedly in the passenger seat with his hands in his lap, twitching from time to time. I left the window down and let the breeze wash over us, bringing me back again to those days on the beach before—before—
I started the Jag and let it out, the engine going from a purr to a dull roar. I didn't know what to do next or where we were going.
It was Easter Sunday.
My father turned his dead white face to me and said, "Woo woo."
Table of Contents
OTHER CROSSROAD PRESS BOOKS BY TOM PICCIRILLI
Part One
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Part Two
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Part Three
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty