Night School

by R.V. Cassill

Or there was Lester Fidler. Lester's pastel-green face was fringed with beard and hair that looked like the waste from a carpet sweeper. He wore a dirty blanket-cloth coat in any weather and he never came to class alone. He always came in holding hands with an equally dirty girl, whose face wore the dismaying blankness of schizoid withdrawal. If Lester and his girl were not practicing beatniks, that was because they had gone beyond all that into some region not merely cool but glacial. And still, sometimes Lester's little eyes gleamed like the points of icepicks. Houston suspected him of maniacal shrewdness.

195 pages, Kindle Edition

Published March 2, 2018

About the author

Ronald Verlin Cassill, Professor of English at Brown University, was a novelist and anthologist.