If he (Victor) squinted his eyes he could almost see the streets themselves, wind scoured and populous. The coopers on the quay, the rope works, the bakery, men selling milk from the tin, the honey-wagon from the abattoir. He thought about his parents meeting in an alley between the back-to-back houses, their two faces strange and animate.
But these were not his streets and he found himself drawn back to the night-time rides, with Willie Lambe driving, with few other cars on the streets and fewer people, and that sense that had created a city-wide fear…
from Resurrection Man by Eoin McNamee (1994). Highly Recommended. Available on BorrowBox
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