Page 28 of Requiem for a Dream


  Eventually the spasms and retching passed and he was able to struggle through a days work with the help of other prisoners, and soon he was just another black ass to the guards and they left him alone to do his work and his time, and at night Tyrone would lie on his bunk thinking of his moms and the warm sweetness of her breath.

 


 

  Hubert Selby Jr., Requiem for a Dream

 


 

 
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