Explore "The Mill of Silence" by Bernard Capes on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
That night when the flood waters rose to a head was a terrible one for Winton -- one ghastly in the extreme for all lost souls whose black destinies guided their footsteps to the mill.
Perhaps a terror of being trapped -- to what hideous fate, who knows? -- somewhere in the tortuous darkness of the building, sent my brother leaping by a mad impulse into the waste uproar of the night. Anyhow, before my confused senses could fully grasp the dread nature of the situation, he had rushed past me, plunged into and up the yard, and was racing for his life.