Thursday, October 18, 2018

First Lines: Thomas Pynchon - Vineland


Later than usual one summer morning in 1984, Zoyd Wheeler drifted awake in sunlight through a creeping fig that hung in the window, with a squadron of blue jays stomping around on the roof.
Posted by at
Labels: , ,

No comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)