#FireHorsesQuotes 83: “I’d spent the day looking through the dirty ice window, watching evil mists conceal faraway fields where horses stood rooted to the spot like cardboard cut-outs, the drift of pylons linking arms, electricity between them. I dreamed once that they’d dammed the valley, and as I skated across the thin ice to the hillside opposite, where Julie waited, I looked down through the ice and townfolk tapped urgently on the glass.”
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