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Thursday’s reading in the heat: After Dark, My Sweet by Jim Thompson
"I’m glad you came back, Collie," she whispered. "I wish you hadn’t. I prayed you wouldn’t, Collie. But I’m glad."
"I’m glad, too. I didn’t mean to, but it just seemed like I had to. After I met you and…and everything. I just couldn’t take that old concrete pasture any more."
"The—the what, Collie?"
"The concrete pasture. I mean, that’s what it seems like to me. You keep going and going, and it’s always the same everywhere. Wherever you’ve been, wherever you go, everywhere you look. Just grayness and hardness, as far as you can see."

Thursday’s reading in the heat: After Dark, My Sweet by Jim Thompson

"I’m glad you came back, Collie," she whispered. "I wish you hadn’t. I prayed you wouldn’t, Collie. But I’m glad."

"I’m glad, too. I didn’t mean to, but it just seemed like I had to. After I met you and…and everything. I just couldn’t take that old concrete pasture any more."

"The—the what, Collie?"

"The concrete pasture. I mean, that’s what it seems like to me. You keep going and going, and it’s always the same everywhere. Wherever you’ve been, wherever you go, everywhere you look. Just grayness and hardness, as far as you can see."

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