Nexus by Henry Miller — Read

It was getting to be like sequences in a coke dream, what with the reading of entrails, the unravelling of lies, the bouts with Osiecki, the solo rambling along the waterfront at night, the encounters with the ‘masters' at the public library, the wall paintings, the dialogues in the dark with my other self, and so on. Nothing could surprise me any more, not even the arrival of an ambulance. Someone, Curley most likely, had thought up that idea to rid me of Stasia. Fortunately I was alone when the ambulance pulled up. There was no crazy person at this address, I informed the driver. He seemed disappointed. Someone had telephoned to come and get her. A mistake, I said.

Now and then the two Dutch sisters who owned the building would drop in to see if all was well. Never stayed but a minute or two. I never saw them except unkempt and bedraggled. The one sister wore blue stockings and the other pink and white striped stockings. The stripes ran spirally, like on a barber's pole.