The 12th book on my Kerouac bookshelf is another copy of Jack Kerouac's Maggie Cassidy (Panther, 1960), and the 12th sentence (in honor of today being the 12th day of the month) is:
They were walking under immense beautiful dark-limbed trees of black winter, dark arms twisted and sinuous from sidewalk up; they overtopped the road, Riverside Street, in a solid roof for several blocks past phantasmal old homes with huge porches and Christmas lights buried deep in; real estate relics of when to be on the river meant and called for expensive building. (p. 6)
What a sentence! Can't you just picture that street?
Tomorrow = a favorite Kerouac book of Richard's.
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