Activity

he photocopied and packaged it so many times that he felt like a publisher himself—or a printer, printing samizdat in a free country

Gwyn and Richard were at the Westway Health and Fitness Center, surrounded by thirty or forty etiolated drunks: playing snooker.

He had a large and lucent lump on the back of his neck.

Of course, these publishers, crying out for words on paper like pining dogs under a plangent moon, weren't regular publishers.

The lambent horror of Gwyn in Spanish (sashed with quotes and reprint updates)