It was a dark sea, much darker than the alley. The tide was slow and there were no waves, just tiny ripples that murmured very softly. Telling him about yesterday. Telling him that yesterday could never really be discarded, it was always a part of now. There was no way to get rid of it. No way to push it aside or throw it into an ash can, or dig a hole and bury it.
David Goodis
Street of No Return
1952
John McWhorter
Philadelphia 1959
below
Fire in the Flesh 1951
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