zondag 4 september 2011

My victim was fresh for Texas and ripe for the kill. … “Where’re we going?” she cried in fearful anticipation. “To Brooklyn,” I shouted.  In the train she was silent, apprehensive. Her hands were busy opening and shutting her purse. “Nervous?” I asked innocently.  – Frank Lewis, “This is Brooklyn?”, 1956

Geen opmerkingen:

Een reactie posten