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332 pages, Hardcover
First published May 18, 2018
He was a tainted soul; he knew that much about himself. A raggedy swindler and masquerade artist, pickpocket and short con gamer.
The Road is Home To Liars. Because you're not there to remain attached to a place, a life, or an identity. Those are just human trappings, temporary trading posts in your life. The road is an invitation to do away with your very existence in a matter of miles. It is a never ending series of destinations that offers rewards, as long as you have the audacity to accept such a treasure, and not fall prey to human predictability.
Cairo was at the confluence of the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers, on a slight peninsula, and if not walled in by levees it would be nothing but a swamped rat hole. It wasn't much more as it was.
"A hotbed of disease," said Erastus, "and ugly sepulcher, a grave uncheered by any glean of promise. A place without one single quality, in earth or air or water, to commend it. Such is this dismal Cairo." He drew some from his pipe. "Charles Dickens said that. You know who Charles Dickens is?"
"I can't say I do."
"English writer. Oliver Twist. You ever read that?"
"That was crackerjack. My mother read it to me. I read it after. She used to call my father that sometimes when she got sore... Oliver Twist."
There was a storefront that about said it all when it came to describing Cairo: -- FAMILY WHISKEY -- TAR AND FEATHERS -- COWHIDES -- BOWIE KNIVES -- and -- SLOW POISON
Any fool worth his measure would know now that if there weren't slavery, there would be something else that worked equally well. Because the world is slavery, and slavery is inequality, and the world survives on inequality. Because without inequality there would be no wealth, and without wealth there would be no power, and without power there would be no control, and without control there would be no order. And order is man's highest aspiration, man's most precious commodity, because it serves his many greeds.