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You never know where trouble will await you.
Rolling down from the bridge, the van caught a wheel in a pothole. Its old body shuddered, and Guy distinctly heard the crash of an overturned cage. There was nothing to do but curse and stop the car.
It was a June morning and the smell of fish wafted from the river; not a rancid smell like in a shared kitchen, but fresh and invigorating, as if he were on a fishing trip, when the water stands placid like a mirror and the elastic body of a fish is flopping in the dewy grass. An unfamiliar, greenish bird sat speaking
Sergey and Marina Dyachenko