This short story follows a heroin addict who decides to participate in a honest day’s work with his bartender friend. I took a few things away from reading it. Firstly, I admired how candid Johnson was during the preface, when he said that this story, like others he has written, were not written, but rather “written down.” I feel as though I carry stories like that as well, one’s that I share over a drink or when I’m sitting next to somebody new. Writing like this already allows for a truth for the reader to feed on.

I’m not sure if this is so for his other stories, but his incorporation of a unreliable narrator is subtle and smooth. I’ve read stories where it seems as though the author is bending over backwards to have their readers foster distrust in the narrator. But by using a drug addict, someone society has already deemed unreliable, as this figure, it keeps me on edge without needing to write another word.

Lastly, Johnson’s view on women in the story is very interesting. He comes to this paradox where women are both caregivers and the receivers of violence. They become objects of admiration and violence when it is convenient and then, in the same instance, give him booze and care for him. He talks about this issue so intimately, I wonder if Johnson came into contact with it in his personal life. I want to write of such personal things.