“He hurried out down the steps, and into City Road, walking towards Old Street. He walked faster and faster like a fugitive. He was running away from the thought of his own cowardice and he raged against it. He made excuses; he had been caught unprepared, he had not thought quickly enough. The rage still choked. Of course he was a coward, otherwise he would go back now. But he could not go back to stand in that corridor while a crowd of women swept round him. He could not risk the peeps and the whispers and the giggles. Suppose she came out arm-in-arm with her friends and they giggled to her about him? She would be ashamed or would even laugh at him.
Rage became shame and shame became a greater rage, sometimes against the cause of it all, the girl. He was in Commercial Street and he turned left into the maze of dirty alleys that led to Brick Lane and Rabbit Marsh. Light and discordant song came from the pubs. Outside the doors clusters of children waited in silence for their parents; pallid, ragged creatures.”
Five Leaves Publications, 2019 (publicado originalmente en 1969)
Prólogo de Ken Worpole