Nexus by Henry Miller — Read

Things continued to move along on greased cogs. It was almost like those early days of the Japanese love nest. If I went for a walk even the dead trees inspired me; if I visited Reb at his store I came back loaded with ideas as well as shirts, ties, gloves and handkerchiefs. When I ran into the landlady I no longer had to worry about back rent. We were paid up everywhere now and had we wanted credit we could have had it galore. Even the Jewish holidays passed pleasantly, with a feast at this house and another at that. We were deep into the Fall, but it no longer oppressed me as it used to. The only thing I missed perhaps was a bike.

I had now had a few more lessons at the wheel and could apply for a driver's licence any time. When I had that I would take Mona for a spin, as Reb had urged. Meanwhile I had made the acquaintance of the negro tenants. Good people, as Reb had said. Every time we collected the rents we came home pie-eyed and slap-happy. One of the tenants, who worked as a Customs inspector, offered to lend me books. He had an amazing library of erotica all filched from the docks in the course of duty. Never had I seen so many filthy books, so many dirty photographs. It made me wonder what the famous Vatican Library contained in the way of forbidden fruit.