And I looked at my paranoid-schizophrenic passenger

Excerpt from
Some Stones Don't Roll


And I looked at my paranoid-schizophrenic passenger and gulped and silently aimed the car down the street and crossed the bridge and rode the mile into town and dropped him off and returned home and did not know until the next day that he had gone missing after staying up all night talking to a boy named George about freedom and then stabbed him in the early, early morning with a serrated knife and then disappeared knife and all period end of story.