The End of the Night (1960)

Cover The End of the Night
We went on a romantic errand. We rode our sprocket-wheel steeds up there through the warm evening, noble as knights. When we left it was as though we had been through a brief and shocking illness. The violence was a cumulative thing, building upon itself.
    I can remember the dreamlike way I climbed onto a chair and took down the saber hanging on Mr. Crozier's study wall. I shd it out of the scabbard. It made a hissing sound when I swung it. There was a marble bust on a low table, the head an
...d shoulders of a bearded man. "Off with your head," I whispered and swung with all my strength. The blade snapped off at the hilt. My hands stung. The bust rocked and fell, and the head split on the hardwood floor. It was all a hot excitement, a roaring release.
    Now, not quite a decade later, I sat on my heels in hot country and felt it all building again, toward the crazed release.
    Becher could not quite believe what was happening to him.
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