the last book I ever read (A Hall of Mirrors by Robert Stone, excerpt eight)

from A Hall of Mirrors by Robert Stone:

I went in there a son of a bitch and I came out the same way except now I have some money and I’m eating shrimp.

You like shrimp, don’t you?

I love shrimp. I have always loved shrimp. What’s the matter, do you find that gross? Is that a betrayal of the spirit or something, my whining fat boy of a soul? Do that bug you?