I read until I realized I was causing damage to my eyes. It was a kind of runaway lust.


The Paris Review, The Art of Fiction No. 5, Issue 5, Spring 1954


I read until I realized I was causing damage to my eyes. It was a kind of runaway lust.

I read until I realized I was causing damage to my eyes. It was a kind of runaway lust.

I read until I realized I was causing damage to my eyes. It was a kind of runaway lust.

I read until I realized I was causing damage to my eyes. It was a kind of runaway lust.