Down and Out On Murder Mile
This passage does something for me:
Even the young people who sometimes came in looked prematurely old- they looked worn out, ashen, and used up; ground down into premature agedness by lifetimes of boredom, booze, and drudgery. The smell of Sunday afternoons, gray skies, stifling hours dragging by in dusty sitting rooms and parlors. This place was a museum of soul-death by inertia.
Even the young people who sometimes came in looked prematurely old- they looked worn out, ashen, and used up; ground down into premature agedness by lifetimes of boredom, booze, and drudgery. The smell of Sunday afternoons, gray skies, stifling hours dragging by in dusty sitting rooms and parlors. This place was a museum of soul-death by inertia.