More from this book
I must have slept for a while, because when I come to, I remember that I've been dreaming. Only a vague memory remains. Me, with someone else, galloping down a dry river-bed on horseback. We're chasing something across the sand, but I don't know what. It feels as though we're laughing, and I can see his teeth against his dark skin. It seems strangely familiar, and I try to remember . . .
It's the most dreadful of dreadful disgraces if a woman gets raped.
Pop music can cause you to become a drug addict. Before Lucifer was thrown out of Heaven, he was the angel of music, and so it's only logical that the communists will use pop music to take over the Republic.
