Word: womens
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...walking was not difficult for the boy, but there were many places where other members of the group had trouble. He saw them joyfully reaching out to help each other, the men anchoring the women, helping them, helping each other up the narrow path--reaching out and holding on for probably the first time in their lives. It was fine, the boy thought, but that, too, was too easy. There was something cheap about it. Joy comes on Thursday; on Thursday, people reach out and help each other; on Friday they go back to their homes and start lying...
...lost their inhibitions about nakedness, so it was nice to slip into the hot mineral water, to sit crowded in this funny bath, relaxed, letting arms and legs and thighs sprawl out; it was even nice for the boy to feel the naked flesh of one of the ugly women pressing against his side...
...been married 12 years; neither had slept with anyone else, although the boy sensed that each would have liked to. He had noticed in the baths that morning that Susie, at 35, had a very old, very withered body--more withered than the bodies of several of the older women...
...LONG lonely sound of the Long Island Railroad came aching down and down the track. Floral Park, Long Island was covered, silent and pure. The lost women, bundled mysteriously in snowsuits and galoshes, slipped, slithered, splashed, cursed and fell into the cold new-sprung fantasies of Long Island slush. They called to us, those strong silent people of this frontier town as they crouched proud and good against the creeping creeps of Queens. They called to us through the black ladened skies. "Get out of town. Cut your hair." Strange, and lonely, their cry. Floral Park, Long Island, I long...
...snow-battle of Jericho Turnpike was over. Trembling and wobbly-weary the legions trudged back, herculean shields of Samsonite luggage, the women wailing and dabbing at their curls. The bodies of Buicks, carcasses of Cadillacs, spoke amber bitter broken words. In the deep brown-lit bar the Gulf-men, Shell-men, Mobil-mechanics leaned at the frosty windows like Gods, laughing lordly as the mortals squirmed and fell...