Maybe coffee would help. He lit a fire under the percolator and sat down at the table and stared at the floor. He turned his head slowly and gazed out the kitchen window. The rain was letting up and he could hear it's weak patter on walls and rooftops. If it rained for an entire month it wouldn't begin to clean these miserable tenements, he thought. The ugly cobbled streets like a pock marked face. And the people. The waterfront bums. The human ruins. A perfect specimen was right here in this kitchen.
David Goodis
Cassidy's Girl
1951
https://www.jasonhalf.com/blog/book-review-cassidys-girl-1951-by-david-goodis
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