And what the hell was he doing parked in front of this decaying brownstone, thinking about rats anyway? / Five days ago, on June 14, he had been in sunny Southern California, home of hopheads, freak religions, the only c/w nightclubs in the world with gogo dancers, and Disneyland. And if he remembered his misspent youth well enough, not all the rats in New York City went on four legs. Didn’t they say that Paris had the biggest rat population in the world? All those old sewers. And, he supposed, killing the Z’s engine, if you believed in one you had to believe in the other. The rat was gone so fast from the sweep of his headlights that it really might not have been there. There was something unpleasant in the trash can and Larry tried to tell himself that he really hadn’t seen the stiffening dead cat and the rat gnawing at its white-furred belly. Sample: Larry Underwood pulled around the corner and found a parking space big enough for the Datsun Z between a fire hydrant and somebody’s trash can that had fallen into the litter. TL DR: Considered King’s best novel by many fans and critics, I abandoned it at Chapter 28 – a book which forced me to reconsider whether finishing it as a hate-read would be self-harming.
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