Slow Days, Fast Company: The World, The Flesh, and L.A.

by Eve Babitz

It’s very relaxing being stuck.

I love hordes. They screen out free choice; you’re free at last: stuck.

Being places alone makes you think. Being there with someone makes you hounded by details, like what time the other person wants to leave; details that drain energy when you are trying to discover the core of an event.

It was one of those nights when the Santa Anas were blowing so hard that searchlights were the only things in the sky that were straight.

she was only real when she was pretending.

I felt cold in the Arrow Market parking lot, looking at Mary’s plain face and ordinary hair and sensible clothes. Did it mean that we were going to have to be gloomy now that we were about to be thirty? Or maybe she was in love with him and it ate up all her charm.