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American Gothic
“
Herman Marshall breathed the Smith & Wesson, and its odor was like wisps of powdered coal. Loop 610 was behind a distant row of tract houses, and he listened to the traffic. It was an unrelenting hiss the way Niagara Falls no doubt was an unrelenting hiss. It was a perfect and endless sound of fear and danger that had been created by the human race because everyone said Progress, and hip, hip, hooray, kiss my ass, let’s all bow down in the face of good old Progress. Herman Marshall grunted. He w
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― The Ideal, Genuine Man
― The Ideal, Genuine Man
