A JOURNAL OF EXTREMITY

Roberto Bolano, "Gomez Palacio"

"On the horizon I could see the highway disappearing into the hills. Night was beginning to approach from the east. Days before, at the motel, I had asked myself, What color is the desert at night? A stupid question, yet somehow I felt it held the key to my future, or perhaps not so much my future as my capacity for suffering."

Russian Peasants Selling Human Meat

Lydia Davis, "The Little Man"

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