In Laredo, we’d been half dead.


Inspired by my cousin, Miranda, Jack Kerouac’s thoughts about the city I live in:

“Laredo was a sinister town that morning. All kinds of cabdrivers and border rats wandered around, looking for opportunities. There weren’t many; it was too late. It was the bottom and dregs of America where all the heavy villains sink, where disoriented people have to go to be near a specific elsewhere they can slip into unnoticed. Contraband brooded in the heavy syrup air. Cops were red-faced and sullen and sweaty, no swagger. Waitresses were dirty and disgusted.”

Picture is a still from No Country For Old Men which takes place not far at all from where I’m sitting and very much captures the stillness of the area.


~ by atypicalsnowman on March 18, 2008.

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