Nova Swing
“Alice believed he had sat there for at least a day. She brought him drinks from the bar, she said, but he didn’t seem as interested as usual; in fact he didn’t seem interested at all. “He’s not himself, you know?” she said to Vic. “Generally, you fetch him a Night Train, he’ll put it down in one and crush the can that way he has against the side of his head, it’s all one fluid move? Well, today he don’t drink nothing. Then he wakes up suddenly and asks for you.”
“How did he put that?”
“...Well, he says, you know, bring that fucking fucker Vic to me,” Alice recalled. “Then he’s like this again. I mean,” she offered, “take a look.”
Paulie’s legs were straight out in front of him, his head thrown back as if the chair had a headrest, which it did not but was just an ordinary uncomfortable moulded chair. His whole body was in a rigid condition. Where it wasn’t the bluish colour of milk, his skin had a heavy-metal tinge particularly evident where it was ablated around his cheeks and forehead.MoreLess
“How did he put that?”
“...Well, he says, you know, bring that fucking fucker Vic to me,” Alice recalled. “Then he’s like this again. I mean,” she offered, “take a look.”
Paulie’s legs were straight out in front of him, his head thrown back as if the chair had a headrest, which it did not but was just an ordinary uncomfortable moulded chair. His whole body was in a rigid condition. Where it wasn’t the bluish colour of milk, his skin had a heavy-metal tinge particularly evident where it was ablated around his cheeks and forehead.MoreLess
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