American Detective: An Amos Walker Novel (2007)
“That added to the exhaustion. I took down the bottle from the cupboard over the sink where it had been cooking all day in the lack of air-conditioning, poured the contents over ice, and watched the cubes on top spontaneously combust in a cloud of steam. The ones on the bottom cracked and shifted like tectonic plates. The liquor tasted like ammonia, but I hadn’t chosen the label for the flavor. In a little while I got undressed, slid between the sheets, and rode the mattress until I slept. My to...lerance was on the retreat. One collateral benefit of growing older is it doesn’t cost as much to get drunk.
In the morning, pooch-eyed and hollow, I filled and turned on the coffee machine and took a tepid shower. It was seventy-five out already and as I toweled off, last night’s dew was lifting outside the window like a glassine curtain. A silver Hummer brumbled past, looking like an Erector Set on wheels; I felt its sonic system under my feet all the way from the upper end of Joseph Campau.MoreLess
In the morning, pooch-eyed and hollow, I filled and turned on the coffee machine and took a tepid shower. It was seventy-five out already and as I toweled off, last night’s dew was lifting outside the window like a glassine curtain. A silver Hummer brumbled past, looking like an Erector Set on wheels; I felt its sonic system under my feet all the way from the upper end of Joseph Campau.MoreLess
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