"We come to the Virgin, my street, my house. It is still very hot, and there is no wind, and mt sweater has become a ridiculous thing. For some reason the dogs are quiet and the streetlamp has not yet been repaired and these things are helpful but I think of tomorrow, of the following days, of what is waiting. Perhaps in Machala I should have taken a swim, and headed due west, and kept swimming."
Pacazo by Roy Kesey, pg. 160
I’ve been trying really hard to keep an open mind about this book. I knew within the first few pages that I was going to have a rough go at reading it. I think this is where I finally start to get it, where I’m used to the narrative sweeping from one subject to the next within the same sentence, where I can finally start keeping things straight.