But she had walked into hell ; the hell of frustration. The kind of frustration that drove you insane. You knew what you wanted, you had it right with you, but it was rotten in the middle. It was no good. It was desire and excitement and sweet agony and it was always frustrated.
Fires that Destroy
Harry Whittington
1951
image
Roger Wilkerson.tumblr
Excerpt reblogged from
Lost Classics of Noir -
Criminal Element.com
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