Elliott Chaze on legs, from the long-lost noir classic, “Black Wings Has My Angel” (1953)
She wore a T shirt of some kind of cocoa toweling and when she leaned back hard against the seat it was a splendid thing to see. Her skirt was gray flannel and it fitted as if it had been smeared on her, and below it were the legs. You hear and read about legs. But when you see the really good ones, you know the things you read and heard were a lot of trash.
Jeff Alford
Jeff Alford is a critic and book collector based in Denver, CO and the Managing Editor of Run Spot Run. He is a contributor to Kirkus Reviews, Rain Taxi Review of Books and the New Orleans Review and author of the now-retired rare books and small press blog www.theoxenofthesun.com.
Latest posts by Jeff Alford (see all)
- The Wind That Lays Waste by Selva Almada - July 8, 2019
- The Organs of Sense by Adam Ehrlich Sachs - June 9, 2019
- Lanny by Max Porter - May 12, 2019
