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The Far Bank
Chapter 1
Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. (1.1)
On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. (1.2)
There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. (1.3)
The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. (1.4)
When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. (1.5)
The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. (1.6)
Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. (1.7)
On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. (1.8)
There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. (1.9)
The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. (1.10)
When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. (1.11)
The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. (1.12)
Chapter 2
On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. (2.1)
There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. (2.2)
The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. (2.3)
When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. (2.4)
The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. (2.5)
Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. (2.6)
On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. (2.7)
There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. (2.8)
The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. (2.9)
When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. (2.10)
The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. (2.11)
Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. (2.12)
Chapter 3
There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. (3.1)
The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. (3.2)
When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. (3.3)
The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. (3.4)
Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. (3.5)
On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. (3.6)
There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. (3.7)
The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. (3.8)
When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. (3.9)
The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. (3.10)
Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. (3.11)
On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. (3.12)
Chapter 4
The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. (4.1)
When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. (4.2)
The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. (4.3)
Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. (4.4)
On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. (4.5)
There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. (4.6)
The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. (4.7)
When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. (4.8)
The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. (4.9)
Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. (4.10)
On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. (4.11)
There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. (4.12)
Chapter 5
When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. (5.1)
The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. (5.2)
Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. (5.3)
On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. (5.4)
There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. (5.5)
The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. (5.6)
When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. (5.7)
The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. (5.8)
Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. (5.9)
On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. (5.10)
There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. (5.11)
The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. (5.12)
Chapter 6
The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. (6.1)
Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. (6.2)
On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. (6.3)
There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. (6.4)
The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. (6.5)
When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. (6.6)
The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. (6.7)
Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. (6.8)
On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. (6.9)
There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. (6.10)
The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. (6.11)
When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. (6.12)
Chapter 7
Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. (7.1)
On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. (7.2)
There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. (7.3)
The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. (7.4)
When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. (7.5)
The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. (7.6)
Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. (7.7)
On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. (7.8)
There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. (7.9)
The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. (7.10)
When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. (7.11)
The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. (7.12)
Chapter 8
On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. (8.1)
There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. (8.2)
The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. (8.3)
When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. (8.4)
The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. (8.5)
Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. (8.6)
On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. (8.7)
There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. (8.8)
The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. (8.9)
When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. (8.10)
The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. (8.11)
Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. (8.12)
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Not turned yet.

Chapter 1
Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. (1.1)
On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. (1.2)
There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. (1.3)
The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. (1.4)
When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. (1.5)
The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. (1.6)
Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. (1.7)
On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. (1.8)
There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. (1.9)
The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. (1.10)
When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. (1.11)
The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. (1.12)
Chapter 2
On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. (2.1)
There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. (2.2)
The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. (2.3)
When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. (2.4)
The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. (2.5)
Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. (2.6)
On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. (2.7)
There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. (2.8)
The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. (2.9)
When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. (2.10)
The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. (2.11)
Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. (2.12)
Chapter 3
There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. (3.1)
The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. (3.2)
When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. (3.3)
The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. (3.4)
Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. (3.5)
On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. (3.6)
There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. (3.7)
The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. (3.8)
When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. (3.9)
The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. (3.10)
Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. (3.11)
On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. (3.12)
Chapter 4
The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. (4.1)
When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. (4.2)
The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. (4.3)
Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. (4.4)
On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. (4.5)
There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. (4.6)
The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. (4.7)
When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. (4.8)
The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. (4.9)
Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. (4.10)
On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. (4.11)
There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. (4.12)
Chapter 5
When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. (5.1)
The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. (5.2)
Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. (5.3)
On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. (5.4)
There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. (5.5)
The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. (5.6)
When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. (5.7)
The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. (5.8)
Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. (5.9)
On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. (5.10)
There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. (5.11)
The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. (5.12)
Chapter 6
The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. (6.1)
Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. (6.2)
On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. (6.3)
There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. (6.4)
The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. (6.5)
When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. (6.6)
The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. (6.7)
Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. (6.8)
On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. (6.9)
There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. (6.10)
The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. (6.11)
When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. (6.12)
Chapter 7
Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. (7.1)
On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. (7.2)
There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. (7.3)
The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. (7.4)
When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. (7.5)
The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. (7.6)
Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. (7.7)
On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. (7.8)
There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. (7.9)
The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. (7.10)
When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. (7.11)
The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. (7.12)
Chapter 8
On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. (8.1)
There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. (8.2)
The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. (8.3)
When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. (8.4)
The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. (8.5)
Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. (8.6)
On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. (8.7)
There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. (8.8)
The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. (8.9)
When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. (8.10)
The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath. On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled. The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current. (8.11)
Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost. There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed. When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake. (8.12)
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Nothing here.
Still nothing.
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Nothing to read yet.
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Download book_spread.qwetheme.qweOn GitHub

Get it

It needs theme.qwe, as every component does; or take the whole kit, quillo-ui.qwe. Each component brings its own styles to the pages that show it.

$ curl -O https://quillolang.org/components/ui/theme.qwe$ curl -O https://quillolang.org/components/ui/book_spread.qwe
main.qwe
import ui/theme.qwe use theme_cssuse ui/book_spread.qweroute GET / = <html><head><style>{theme_css}</style></head><body class="ui-root">...</body></html>

Example

The code of the preview above.

demos/book_spread.qwe
let book_spread_demo_lines = [    "The ferry left at first light, as it had every morning since the bridge came down, and the river took it sideways before the engine found its breath.",    "Marta kept her hand on the rail and counted the pilings as they went past, because her father had once told her that a person who counts is never truly lost.",    "On the far bank the town was still asleep, its shutters closed against a mist that had come up in the night and now lay in the streets like something spilled.",    "There was a letter in her coat. She had read it four times and could have said it aloud, but she took it out again and held it, as if the paper might have changed.",    "The ferryman asked nothing. He had carried enough people across to know the ones who wanted talk from the ones who wanted the far side, and he kept his eyes on the current.",    "When the keel touched the gravel she stepped out before he had the rope tied, and stood for a moment with the cold coming up through her boots, listening to a town wake.",]fn book_spread_demo_blocks() -> list {    flatten(range(1, 9) | map((c) => {        // Long paragraphs, as a book has: three lines of text cannot break across a page.        let body = range(0, 12) | map((i) => { { text: `${book_spread_demo_lines[(c + i) % 6]} ${book_spread_demo_lines[(c + i + 2) % 6]} ${book_spread_demo_lines[(c + i + 4) % 6]} (${c}.${i + 1})` } })        [{ text: `Chapter ${c}`, kind: "h" }] + body    }))}component BookSpreadDemoLive() {    state place = "Not turned yet."    state quote = ""    <div.demo-stack>        <div.demo-tablet>            <BookSpread blocks={book_spread_demo_blocks()} title="The Far Bank"                        on_position={(p) => {                            place = `${p.block}:${p.offset} ${p.percent}% ${p.page}/${p.pages}`                            quote = p.quote                        }}/>        </div>        <p.demo-note id="book-spread-place">{place}</p>        <p.demo-note id="book-spread-quote">{quote}</p>        <div id="book-spread-saved" style="height: 320px"><BookSpread label="Saved" blocks={book_spread_demo_blocks()} position={{ block: 0, offset: 500, quote: "(8.12)" }}/></div>        <div id="book-spread-odd" style="height: 320px"><BookSpread label="Odd" blocks={["Nothing here.", null, { text: " " }, 4, { text: "Still nothing.", kind: "h" }]} position={{ block: 9, offset: -4 }}/></div>        <div id="book-spread-empty" style="height: 320px"><BookSpread label="Empty" blocks="none" position="soon"/></div>    </div>}view BookSpreadDemo() = <BookSpreadDemoLive/>

Source

ui/book_spread.qwe
// BookSpread: a reader for a tablet. One column upright and a two-page spread turned, by the// room it has, so it works in Split View too. Pages turn by swipe, by a tap near an edge, by// button or by key. Where the reader is is kept as a place in the text and not as a page// number, so turning the tablet or changing the type size leaves the same words at the top// of the page, though the page numbers change.////   import ui/book_spread.qwe use BookSpread////   component Reader(book) {//       state place = load_place(book.id)//       <div style="height: 100dvh">//           <BookSpread blocks={book.blocks} title={book.title} position={place}//                       on_position={(p) => { save_place(book.id, p) }}/>//       </div>//   }//// blocks: the text, each { text, kind? }, kind "h" being a heading, or plain text for a paragraph.// What has no text is left out. title: shown in the bar. position: where to open, as// on_position gave it: { block, offset, quote }. quote is the words there, so a place still// holds if the text has been edited: when the block no longer has them at that offset, the// nearest block that does is used. size: the type's size in pixels (19), and the bar's two// buttons change it from 14 to 30. label: its name for screen readers. class.// on_position(p): inside one of your components, called after each turn with { block, offset,// quote, percent, page, pages }. Keep block, offset and quote; page and pages hold only for// this size and shape of screen.//// Keys, on the page: the left and right arrows, Page Up, Page Down and Space turn; Home and// End go to the ends. A tap in the outer quarter of either side turns, and the middle is left// for selecting text. Offsets count as the browser's text does, in UTF-16 units.import ui/theme.qwe use ui_clslet book_spread_css = css`.ui-book-spread { position: relative; box-sizing: border-box; display: flex; flex-direction: column; width: 100%; height: 100%; min-height: 320px; color: var(--ui-fg); background: var(--ui-bg); font-family: var(--ui-font); }.ui-book-spread-bar { display: flex; align-items: center; gap: 4px; flex: none; min-height: 48px; padding: 2px max(8px, env(safe-area-inset-right)) 2px max(8px, env(safe-area-inset-left)); border-bottom: 1px solid var(--ui-border); background: var(--ui-surface); }.ui-book-spread-title { flex: 1; min-width: 0; overflow: hidden; font-size: 14px; font-weight: 600; text-overflow: ellipsis; white-space: nowrap; }.ui-book-spread-btn { min-width: 44px; min-height: 44px; padding: 0 10px; border: 0; border-radius: var(--ui-radius-sm); background: transparent; color: var(--ui-fg); font: 500 14px var(--ui-font); cursor: pointer; }.ui-book-spread-btn:disabled { color: var(--ui-muted); opacity: .5; cursor: default; }.ui-book-spread-btn:focus-visible { outline: none; box-shadow: var(--ui-focus); }@media (hover: hover) { .ui-book-spread-btn:not(:disabled):hover { background: var(--ui-subtle); } }.ui-book-spread-view { position: relative; flex: 1; min-height: 0; margin: 20px max(28px, env(safe-area-inset-right)) 8px max(28px, env(safe-area-inset-left)); overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: auto; outline: none; touch-action: pan-y pinch-zoom; font-size: var(--size); line-height: 1.6; }.ui-book-spread-ready { overflow: hidden; }.ui-book-spread-view:focus-visible { box-shadow: 0 0 0 2px var(--ui-accent); }.ui-book-spread-flow { column-fill: auto; will-change: transform; }.ui-book-spread-para { margin: 0 0 .8em; orphans: 2; widows: 2; }.ui-book-spread-head { margin: 0 0 .7em; font-size: 1.3em; font-weight: 700; line-height: 1.25; break-after: avoid; }.ui-book-spread-turning { transition: transform .22s cubic-bezier(.2, .8, .2, 1); }.ui-book-spread-swiping { user-select: none; -webkit-user-select: none; }.ui-book-spread-gutter { position: absolute; top: 48px; bottom: 28px; left: 50%; width: 1px; background: var(--ui-border); pointer-events: none; }.ui-book-spread-foot { display: flex; justify-content: space-between; flex: none; padding: 2px max(28px, env(safe-area-inset-right)) calc(6px + env(safe-area-inset-bottom)) max(28px, env(safe-area-inset-left)); color: var(--ui-muted); font: 13px/1.4 var(--ui-font); font-variant-numeric: tabular-nums; }@media (prefers-reduced-motion: reduce) { .ui-book-spread-turning { transition: none; } }`// The text as { text, heading }, with what has none left out.fn book_spread_clean(blocks) -> list {    if type_of(blocks) != "list" { return [] }    let shaped = blocks | map((b) => {        if type_of(b) == "str" { return { text: b, heading: false } }        if type_of(b) == "map" && type_of(get(b, "text")) == "str" { return { text: b.text, heading: get(b, "kind") == "h" } }        null    })    shaped | filter((b) => b != null && trim(b.text) != "")}// One column or two: two when the room is wider than tall and each page keeps a readable width.fn book_spread_columns(width: num, height: num) -> int {    width > height && width >= 640 ? 2 : 1}// The first page of the last screen, for this many pages shown this many at a time.fn book_spread_last(pages: int, cols: int) -> int {    floor((max([pages, 1]) - 1) / cols) * cols}// A page as the first page of the screen that shows it, kept in the book.fn book_spread_align(page: int, cols: int, pages: int) -> int {    max([0, min([floor(page / cols) * cols, book_spread_last(pages, cols)])])}// A swipe let go after dx pixels in ms: 1 for the next screen, -1 for the last, 0 to spring back.fn book_spread_turn(dx: num, ms: num, width: num) -> int {    let speed = abs(dx) / max([ms, 1])    if abs(dx) >= width * 0.25 || (abs(dx) >= 30 && speed >= 0.5) { return dx < 0 ? 1 : -1 }    0}// What a tap at x does: the outer quarters turn, and the middle does nothing.fn book_spread_edge(x: num, left: num, width: num) -> int {    if x < left + width * 0.25 { return -1 }    x > left + width * 0.75 ? 1 : 0}// How far through the text a place is, in whole percent.fn book_spread_percent(lengths: list, block: int, offset: int) -> int {    let total = sum(lengths)    if total == 0 { return 0 }    let before = sum(slice(lengths, 0, max([0, block])))    min([100, floor((before + offset) * 100 / total)])}// A saved place in this text: as given while the words are there, else the nearest block that// has them, else the same block as near as it can be.fn book_spread_resolve(texts: list, place) {    let n = len(texts)    if n == 0 || type_of(place) != "map" { return { block: 0, offset: 0 } }    let b = get(place, "block")    let o = get(place, "offset")    let block = type_of(b) == "int" ? max([0, min([b, n - 1])]) : 0    let offset = type_of(o) == "int" ? max([0, o]) : 0    let quote = get(place, "quote")    if type_of(quote) != "str" || quote == "" { return { block, offset: min([offset, len(texts[block])]) } }    if type_of(b) == "int" && b == block && slice(texts[block], offset, offset + len(quote)) == quote { return { block, offset } }    let holding = range(0, n) | filter((i) => contains(texts[i], quote))    if len(holding) == 0 { return { block, offset: min([offset, len(texts[block])]) } }    let nearest = min(holding | map((i) => abs(i - block)))    let at = (holding | filter((i) => abs(i - block) == nearest))[0]    { block: at, offset: len(split(texts[at], quote)[0]) }}// The left of the character at offset in a block's text, or null where it takes no room, as a// space broken off at the end of a column does not.fn book_spread_char_left(doc, node, offset: int) {    let r = doc.createRange()    r.setStart(node, offset)    r.setEnd(node, offset + 1)    let rects = r.getClientRects()    rects.length > 0 ? rects[0].left : null}// The first words on the page whose left edge is at `left` on the screen: { block, offset,// quote }. Blocks and characters run from left to right through the columns, so both are// found by halving, and a long book costs little.fn book_spread_find(flow, doc, left: num) {    let els = flow.querySelectorAll("[data-i]")    let n = els.length    if n == 0 { return { block: 0, offset: 0, quote: "" } }    let lo = 0    let hi = n - 1    while lo < hi {        let mid = floor((lo + hi) / 2)        let rects = els[mid].getClientRects()        let end_at = rects.length > 0 ? rects[rects.length - 1].right : left        if end_at > left + 1 { hi = mid } else { lo = mid + 1 }    }    let el = els[lo]    let node = el.firstChild    let size = node.length    let start = el.getClientRects()[0].left    let a = 0    if start < left - 1 {        let b = size - 1        while a < b {            let mid = floor((a + b) / 2)            let at = book_spread_char_left(doc, node, mid)            if at != null && at >= left - 1 { b = mid } else { a = mid + 1 }        }    }    let r = doc.createRange()    r.setStart(node, a)    r.setEnd(node, min([a + 40, size]))    { block: lo, offset: a, quote: r.toString() }}// The page a place falls on, for pages `step` wide.fn book_spread_page_of(flow, doc, place, step: num) -> int {    let els = flow.querySelectorAll("[data-i]")    if els.length == 0 { return 0 }    let el = els[max([0, min([place.block, els.length - 1])])]    let node = el.firstChild    let origin = flow.getBoundingClientRect().left    let offset = min([place.offset, node.length - 1])    let at = offset > 0 ? book_spread_char_left(doc, node, offset) : null    let rects = el.getClientRects()    if at == null && rects.length == 0 { return 0 }    let x = at ?? rects[0].left    floor((x - origin + 1) / step)}component BookSpread(blocks = [], title: str = "", position = null, size: int = 19, label: str = "Book", on_position = null, class: str? = null) {    style global book_spread_css    let text = book_spread_clean(blocks)    let texts = text | map((b) => b.text)    let lengths = texts | map((t) => len(t))    state win = null    state doc = null    state pane = null    state flow = null    state ready = false    state at = 0               // the first page showing    state pages = 1    state cols = 1    state type_size = max([14, min([size, 30])])    state percent = 0    state said = ""    state g_step = 1    state g_place = book_spread_resolve(book_spread_clean(blocks) | map((b) => b.text), position)    state g_swipe = null       // { id, x, y, t, locked }    let sit = () => { flow.style.transform = `translateX(${-at * g_step}px)` }    // What is at the top of the page now becomes the place kept.    let note_place = () => {        // From the flow's own edge: while a turn glides, it and the text are in step and the pane is not.        let place = book_spread_find(flow, doc, flow.getBoundingClientRect().left + at * g_step)        g_place = place        percent = at >= book_spread_last(pages, cols) && pages > 1 ? 100 : book_spread_percent(lengths, place.block, place.offset)        on_position && on_position({ ...place, percent, page: at + 1, pages })    }    let go = (to: int) => {        let next = book_spread_align(to, cols, pages)        flow.classList.add("ui-book-spread-turning")        if next != at {            at = next            sit()            note_place()            said = `Page ${at + 1} of ${pages}.`        } else {            sit()        }    }    // The columns for the room there is. Nothing here reads the page number: it comes from the    // place in the text, which is what stays true when the room or the type changes.    let lay_out = () => {        g_swipe = null        // Off the page or hidden, as in a closed tab panel, there is no room to measure.        if pane.clientWidth == 0 || pane.clientHeight == 0 { return null }        flow.classList.remove("ui-book-spread-turning")        flow.classList.remove("ui-book-spread-swiping")        let w = pane.clientWidth        let n = book_spread_columns(w, pane.clientHeight)        let gap = 48        let cw = floor((w - gap * (n - 1)) / n)        cols = n        g_step = cw + gap        flow.style.width = `${cw * n + gap * (n - 1)}px`        flow.style.height = `${pane.clientHeight}px`        flow.style.columnWidth = `${cw}px`        flow.style.columnGap = `${gap}px`        flow.style.transform = "none"        pages = max([1, ceil((flow.scrollWidth + gap) / g_step - 0.01)])        at = book_spread_align(book_spread_page_of(flow, doc, g_place, g_step), n, pages)        sit()        percent = book_spread_percent(lengths, g_place.block, g_place.offset)    }    let resize_type = (by: int) => {        type_size = max([14, min([type_size + by, 30])])        // A style on the parent, read after the page has taken it.        js("requestAnimationFrame", (_t = null) => { lay_out() })    }    let spring = () => {        flow.classList.remove("ui-book-spread-swiping")        flow.classList.add("ui-book-spread-turning")        sit()    }    <div class={ui_cls(["ui-book-spread", class])} role="group" aria-label={label}>        <div.ui-book-spread-bar>            <button.ui-book-spread-btn type="button" aria-label="Last page" disabled={at == 0} @click={() => { go(at - cols) }}>Back</button>            <span.ui-book-spread-title>{title}</span>            <button.ui-book-spread-btn type="button" aria-label="Smaller type" disabled={type_size <= 14} @click={() => { resize_type(-2) }}>A-</button>            <button.ui-book-spread-btn type="button" aria-label="Larger type" disabled={type_size >= 30} @click={() => { resize_type(2) }}>A+</button>            <button.ui-book-spread-btn type="button" aria-label="Next page" disabled={at >= book_spread_last(pages, cols)} @click={() => { go(at + cols) }}>Next</button>        </div>        // Sizes go on this parent. The flow inside is what a swipe moves, so it takes no style={...}:        // what the markup writes there would be written over what the handlers set.        <div class={ui_cls(["ui-book-spread-view", ready && "ui-book-spread-ready"])} tabindex="0" role="group" aria-label={`${title != "" ? title : label}, page ${at + 1} of ${pages}`}             style={`--size: ${type_size}px`}             @mount={(me) => {                 win = js("window")                 doc = js("document")                 pane = me                 flow = me.querySelector(".ui-book-spread-flow")                 ready = true                 lay_out()                 let ro = js_new("ResizeObserver", () => { lay_out() })                 ro.observe(me)                 // A web font arriving moves every line.                 js("Promise.resolve", doc.fonts.ready)                 lay_out()                 () => ro.disconnect()             }}             @pointerdown={(e) => {                 if e.button == 0 && g_swipe == null {                     g_swipe = { id: e.pointerId, x: e.clientX, y: e.clientY, t: e.timeStamp, locked: false }                 }             }}             @pointermove={(e) => {                 if g_swipe != null && e.pointerId == g_swipe.id {                     let dx = e.clientX - g_swipe.x                     let dy = e.clientY - g_swipe.y                     // A mouse selects text; a finger or a pen turns the page.                     if !g_swipe.locked && e.pointerType != "mouse" && abs(dx) > 10 && abs(dx) > abs(dy) {                         g_swipe = { ...g_swipe, locked: true }                         pane.setPointerCapture(e.pointerId)                         flow.classList.remove("ui-book-spread-turning")                         flow.classList.add("ui-book-spread-swiping")                     }                     if g_swipe.locked {                         let end = (dx > 0 && at == 0) || (dx < 0 && at >= book_spread_last(pages, cols))                         flow.style.transform = `translateX(${-at * g_step + (end ? dx * 0.25 : dx)}px)`                     }                 }             }}             @pointerup={(e) => {                 if g_swipe != null && e.pointerId == g_swipe.id {                     let s = g_swipe                     g_swipe = null                     let dx = e.clientX - s.x                     let dy = e.clientY - s.y                     let ms = e.timeStamp - s.t                     if s.locked {                         flow.classList.remove("ui-book-spread-swiping")                         let by = book_spread_turn(dx, ms, pane.clientWidth)                         if by != 0 { go(at + by * cols) } else { spring() }                     } else if abs(dx) + abs(dy) < 10 && ms < 500 && win.getSelection().isCollapsed {                         let r = pane.getBoundingClientRect()                         let by = book_spread_edge(e.clientX, r.left, r.width)                         if by != 0 { go(at + by * cols) }                     }                 }             }}             @pointercancel={(e) => {                 if g_swipe != null && e.pointerId == g_swipe.id {                     let s = g_swipe                     g_swipe = null                     if s.locked { spring() }                 }             }}             @keydown={(e) => {                 let to = match e.key {                     "ArrowRight" => at + cols                     "PageDown" => at + cols                     " " => at + cols                     "ArrowLeft" => at - cols                     "PageUp" => at - cols                     "Home" => 0                     "End" => pages                     _ => -1000                 }                 if to != -1000 {                     e.preventDefault()                     go(to)                 }             }}>            <div.ui-book-spread-flow>                // One element either way: a row that is a `? :` of two cannot always be removed.                {for p in enumerate(text) => <div key={p[0]} data-i={p[0]} class={p[1].heading ? "ui-book-spread-head" : "ui-book-spread-para"} role={p[1].heading ? "heading" : null} aria-level={p[1].heading ? "3" : null}>{p[1].text}</div>}                {len(text) == 0 && <div.ui-book-spread-para>Nothing to read yet.</div>}            </div>        </div>        {cols == 2 && <span.ui-book-spread-gutter aria-hidden="true"></span>}        <div.ui-book-spread-foot>            <span>{cols == 2 && at + 2 <= pages ? `Pages ${at + 1} and ${at + 2} of ${pages}` : `Page ${at + 1} of ${pages}`}</span>            <span>{percent}%</span>        </div>        <span.ui-sr role="status">{said}</span>    </div>}
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