Explore "Nexus" by Henry Miller on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
No coffee, no apple pie. It was dark and the avenue deserted when I hit the air. I was famished. With the few cents I had I bought a candy bar and walked home. A horrendous jaunt, particularly on an empty stomach. But my head was buzzing like a beehive. For company I had the martyrs, those gay self-willed birds who had long since been devoured by the worms.
I dove straight into bed. Why wait up for them, even though there was a promise of food? Anything from their lips would be so much gibberish after the biographical fling I had enjoyed.