![]() ![]() ![]() And the drone and hiccup of a clothes dryer, the nasal contention of a leaf blower, the ripening of local apples in a paper bag, the smell of the gasoline with which Alfred Lambert had cleaned the paintbrush from his morning painting of the wicker love seat.Īnd so begins The Corrections, a bounding, sometimes perilous journey through the lives of the five primary members of the Lambert family. Storm windows shuddered in the empty bedrooms. Red oakes and pin oakes and swamp white oakes rained acorns on houses with no mortgage. Trees restless, temperatures falling, the whole northern religion of things coming to an end. The sun low in the sky, a minor light, a cooling star. ![]() You could feel it: something terrible was going to happen. The Madness of an autumn prairie cold front coming through. ![]()
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