Rabe on the Sixth Aperitif
“The waiter brought the aperitif and Wheeler sipped at it. It tasted less and less strong now; perhaps he should stop. But why? A fine vagueness was taking over, an absence of thought, leaving only uncomplicated realities, like the light on the lake, the grain of the table top, and the squeak of the wire chair when Wheeler moved.”
— from Blood on the Desert (1958), Peter Rabe