Status Updates From By Nightfall

'Peter lets himself into the loft. Quarter past four. He goes to the kitchen counter, puts down the drugstore bag that contains the Excedrin and dental floss he's picked up (why is it so impossible to go out in New York without buying something?), slips off his jacket, hangs it up.'

Sono di parte ma la prosa di Cunningham la trovo straordinaria, anche quando a volte si avvita su se stessa.