All Tomorrow's Parties (Bridge, #3)

by William Gibson

Behind the columns, against the far wall, derelict shipping cartons huddle in a ragged train, improvised shelters constructed by the city’s homeless.

sf wouldnt allow it

“Sound of breakfast cooking,” he said, then drank.

Gotta use this one, some Saturday

People don’t know what they want, not before they see it. Every object of desire is a found object. Traditionally, anyway.”