He moved toward Lundy’s with his mind dampened and softened, the whisky fumes swirling in his head and dulling his eyes. There was no thought or purpose other than the fact that he was on his way to Lundy’s to have a drink. To have several drinks. As many drinks as he wanted. And nothing would prevent him from getting where he was going. He was on his way to have himself some liquor and they’d better not get in his way. He had no idea who “they” represented, but whoever “they” were, “they” would do well to tend to their own business and give Cassidy a clear path ahead to Lundy’s Place.
On the river side of Dock Street the big ships rocked gently on the black water like monstrous hens, fat and complacent in their roosts. Their lights twinkled and threw blobs of yellow on the cobbled street
