He’s a lonely forgotten man desperate to prove that he’s alive.
The idea had been growing in my brain for some time. True force. All the king’s men cannot put it back together again.
May 10th. Thank God for the rain which has helped wash away the garbage and trash off the sidewalks. I’m workin’ long hours now, six in the afternoon to six in the morning. Sometimes even eight in the morning, six days a week. Sometimes seven days a week. It’s a long hustle but it keeps me real busy. I can take in three, three fifty a week. Sometimes even more when I do it off the meter. All the animals come out at night - whores, skunk pussies, buggers, queens, fairies, dopers, junkies, sick, venal. Someday a real rain will come and wash all this scum off the streets. I go all over. I take people to the Bronx, Brooklyn, I take ‘em to Harlem. I don’t care. Don’t make no difference to me. It does to some. Some won’t even take spooks. Don’t make no difference to me.
Each night when I return the cab to the garage, I have to clean the cum off the back seat. Some nights, I clean off the blood.
Twelve hours of work and I still can’t sleep. Damn. Days go on and on. They don’t end.