I'm going to freeze your face
Aaron Finestone Selections


(NY: Messner, 1946; London: Heinemann 1947)
Parry said, “I’m a coward.  I don’t like pain.”
“We’re all cowards,” Coley said.  “There’s no such thing as courage.  There’s only fear.  A fear of getting hurt and a fear of dying.  That’s why the human race has lasted so long.  You won’t have any pain with this.  I’m going to freeze your face.

Cassidy's Girl

(NY: Fawcett, 1951; London: Miller, 1958)

The place was a complete wreck.  The room looked as if it had been given a vigorous spin and turned upside down several times.  The furniture was overturned and the sofa had been sent crashing into a wall with enough force to bring down a lot of plaster and create a gaping hole.  A small table was upside down.  Two chairs had their legs broken off.  Whisky bottles, some of them broken, most of them empty were scattered all over the room.  He took a long look at that.  Then his eyes leaped.  There was blood on the floor.

He was trying with all his power to hate the sight of her full fruit-like lips, and the maddening display of her immense breasts, the way they wept out, aimed at him like weapons.  He stood looking at this woman to whom he had been married for almost four years, with whom he slept in the same bed every night, but what he saw was not a mate.  He saw a harsh and biting and downright unbearable obsession.

He walked into the small kitchen and saw more wreckage.  The sink was ready to collapse under the weight of empty bottles and filthy dishes.  The table was a mess and the floor was worse.  He opened the ice box
and saw the sad remains of what he had expected would be his meal tonight.


The coffee was bubbling.  He filled a cup and let the hot black sugarless liquid seep down his throat.  It tasted awful.  Well, it was not the coffee’s fault.