Over the course of the summer some of the ticks had put on so much weight that they’d metamorphosed into a nest of mindless, roaming esophagi, searching with rheumy eyes for boxes of jelly doughnuts and generous slices of meat pie. Others, from a steady diet of pills and liquor, had shed so many pounds that they resembled scarecrows, their ill-fitting clothes hanging from their emaciated frames. When they saw me enter the building the men cheered, they applauded, they marched around the lunchroom table and chanted, “The Cyclops! The Cyclops! Love the eye patch! It suits you! Bestowed upon you by the gods as punishment for your crimes. Yes, punishment from the gods for your crimes!” “What crimes?” I said, maybe more defensively than I’d intended. “The Gonk already gave us the scoop, told us how he took you up to the titty bar on Friday night. Now, why in the hell would you throw away your hard-earned cash in a sinful place like the cabaret? That’s not what we had in mind when we told you to find a woman.
What do You think about The Captive Condition (2015)?
