A heaving sea of air hammers in the purple brown dusk tainted with rotten metal smell of sewer gas…young worker faces vibrating out of focus in yellow halos of carbide lanterns… broken pipes exposed….
“They are rebuilding the City.”
Lee nodded absently…. “Yes… Always…”
Either way is a bad move to The East Wing.. If I knew I’d be glad to tell you….
“No good… no bueno… hustling myself….”
“No glot… C’lom Fliday”
Tangier, 1959
– William Burroughs
