The Gunslinger's Companion
As Pablo observed, deep within the man's dark brooding eyes was the look of one who long ago surrendered. Pablo grew up toiling right along men just like this—the look in their eyes was irrevocably etched in his memory. This man had that same look. Pablo suspected that he and his family were migrants—or worse, were among the woe begotten that society pretends not to see—the ones who prefer to remain in shadow, but on Sunday morning, for the love of God, will come forth.
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