Fear was a girl whispering a word over and over again, a small word you refused to hear, although the whisper was a scream in your ears, a dreadful scream you could never forget. You heard it over and over again and the fog was a ripe red veil you could not tear away from your eyes.
Dorothy B. Hughes
In a Lonely Place
1947
Excerpt reblogged from Noirboiled Notes
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Jerry Schatzberg
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