It was becoming a habit—this concentration on things behind him. Almost as though there were no future to be had.
Nor was she dirty; unkempt, yes, but not dirty. The whites of her fingernails were like ivory. And unless he knew absolutely nothing, this woman was definitely not drunk.
Milkman was five feet seven then but it was the first time in his life that he remembered being completely happy.
Popular pages: Song of Solomon