“You goin’ down against yerself, Lefthander? I ain’t been.”
For reply Bruno brought up his foot as though converting a point after touchdown: the point of the boot caught the point of jaw. They all heard the snap, like the snap of a brittle reed. They all saw the supporting forearms fold and saw him roll on his side. They stood, looking blindly down, a dozen bald-headed Poles with a warehouse shadow across their skulls.
There was no sound from below. Three was no sound from above. As though the last El had crashed and the last trolley had finished its final run. Only the beat of the powerhouse, the heavy throb through the city wires: and the blind wall waiting before them. Then they ran.”
Never come morning
Seven Stories Press, 1996 (publicado originalmente en 1942)