Joyland

by Stephen King

I was a twenty-one-year-old virgin with literary aspirations. I possessed three pairs of bluejeans, four pairs of Jockey shorts, a clunker Ford (with a good radio), occasional suicidal ideations, and a broken heart. Sweet, huh?

What I know now is that gallant young men rarely get pussy. Put it on a sampler and hang it in your kitchen.

Eddie raised his gloved hands. “The guy who did it wore a pair of these. Did you know that?”

Eddie the murderer?

can’t understand why people use religion to hurt each other when there’s already so much pain in the world,” Mrs. Shoplaw said. “Religion is supposed to comfort.”