Harlem Shuffle

by Colson Whitehead

The way he saw it, living taught you that you didn’t have to live the way you’d been taught to live. You came from one place but more important was where you decided to go.

Certainly she hadn’t quit show business, waitressing being a line of work where you had to play to even the cheapest of seats.

“That’s what he looks like,” Freddie said. “Everybody gotta look like something.”

Part of moving up in the world is realizing how much shit you used to eat.

How long do you keep trying to save something that has been lost?

The white lady next to him on the subway read it over his shoulder. She frowned. That’s why you shouldn’t read over people’s shoulders.