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<rss version="2.0"><channel><title/><link>https://twinsdaily.com/blogs/blog/3845-cormacs-corner/</link><description><![CDATA[<p>
	Cormac McCarthy is the <em>Twins Daily</em> eschatology correspondent. He is the author of <em>The Road</em>, <em>No Country for Old Men</em>, <em>The Border Trilogy</em>, <em>Blood Meridian</em>, and the upcoming <em>Every Man for Himself and God Against All: The Story of the 2021 Minnesota Twins</em>. 
</p>
]]></description><language>en</language><item><title>The Unvoiced: Volume Three, The Leverage Trilogy</title><link>https://twinsdaily.com/blogs/entry/23027-the-unvoiced-volume-three-the-leverage-trilogy/</link><description>Read Volume One here




	Read Volume Two here




	The phone rang again. No one moved so the visitor took it upon himself to answer. He listened for a moment and then hung up.




	Who&#x2019;d they want, said one of the pitchers.&#xA0;




	None of you, said the visitor. He called to say none of you are fit...</description><guid isPermaLink="false">23027</guid><pubDate>Thu, 27 May 2021 15:39:00 +0000</pubDate></item><item><title>Blood Quotidian: Volume Two, The Leverage Trilogy</title><link>https://twinsdaily.com/blogs/entry/23020-blood-quotidian-volume-two-the-leverage-trilogy/</link><description>Read Volume One here




	The last time he had been inside in a bullpen was in Coahuila to hold a vaquero accountable for bedding the hacendado&#x2019;s wife. Yet somehow this bullpen held more misery.




	In one corner the pitchers sat on chairs huddled around a few desultory flames and passed around a...</description><guid isPermaLink="false">23020</guid><pubDate>Fri, 21 May 2021 00:08:00 +0000</pubDate></item><item><title>The Evening Sadness in the Central: Volume One, The Leverage Trilogy</title><link>https://twinsdaily.com/blogs/entry/23007-the-evening-sadness-in-the-central-volume-one-the-leverage-trilogy/</link><description>&#xA0;




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	Horse and rider emerged from the yawning chasm beneath the field, as if escaping the jaws of some unfeeling limestone beast. He sat his horse and glassed downcountry. Through a veil of dust coppered by bloodred sunset he could make out the number 411 painted on a fence. Just beyond th...</description><guid isPermaLink="false">23007</guid><pubDate>Mon, 17 May 2021 15:03:00 +0000</pubDate></item></channel></rss>
