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“...he and the baby would be out the same day.”

She would stand in the middle of the rutted road, a slight girl in a bright Sears, Roebuck printed frock, pointing proudly to her belly. He would cup his hands, the broom beneath his armpit, and call down to her that he and the baby would be out the same day. When she left he would feel so happy that he looked drunken. He would squeeze himself with both hands, wave his arms aimlessly, and would go through a little love dance, pretending the broom was his bride.

- Nelson Algren, "El Presidente de Mejico" (from The Neon Wilderness)

November 1, 2017 in Books | Permalink