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Ed
war
d H
op
per
’s N
ight
haw
ks, 1
942
by J
oyce
Car
ol O
ates
Th
e th
ree
men
are
fully
clo
thed
, lon
g sl
eeve
s,
1
even
hat
s, th
ough
it’s
indo
ors,
and
brig
htly
lit,
and
ther
e’s
a wo
man
. Th
e wo
man
is w
earin
g a
shor
t-sle
eved
red
dres
s cu
t to
expo
se h
er a
rms,
a
curv
e of
her
cre
amy
ches
t; sh
e’s
cont
empl
atin
g
5
a ci
gare
tte in
her
righ
t han
d, th
inki
ng th
at
her c
ompa
nion
has
fina
lly le
ft hi
s wi
fe b
ut
can
she
trust
him
? H
er h
eavy
-lidd
ed e
yes,
po
uty
lipst
icke
d m
outh
, she
has
the
redh
ead’
s
true
pallo
r lik
e sk
im m
ilk, d
amne
d go
od-lo
okin
g
10
and
she
gues
ses
she
know
s it
but w
hat e
xact
ly
has
it go
tten
her s
o fa
r, an
d wh
ere?
—he
’ll s
tart
to fe
el g
uilty
in a
few
days
, she
kno
ws
the
sign
s, a
nd a
ctua
l sm
ell,
swea
ty, r
anci
d, li
ke
dirty
soc
ks; h
e’ll
slip
awa
y to
mak
e te
leph
one
calls
15
an
d sh
e sw
ears
she
isn’
t goi
ng to
go
thro
ugh
that
ag
ain,
isn’
t goi
ng to
bre
ak d
own
cryi
ng o
r beg
ging
no
r is
she
goin
g to
scr
eam
at h
im, s
he’s
fini
shed
wi
th a
ll th
at.
And
he’s
sile
nt b
esid
e he
r, no
t the
kin
d to
talk
muc
h bu
t he’
s th
inki
ng
2
0 th
ank
God
he
mad
e th
e rig
ht m
ove
at la
st,
he’s
a li
ttle
daze
d lik
e a
man
in a
dre
am—
is
this
a d
ream
?—so
muc
h th
at’s
wid
e, s
till,
mut
e, h
oriz
onta
l, an
d th
e co
unte
rman
in w
hite
, st
oope
d as
he
is a
nd u
nmov
ing
exce
pt to
sip
25
his
coffe
e; b
ut h
e’s
feel
ing
pret
ty g
ood,
it’
s pr
imar
ily re
lief,
this
tim
e he
’s s
ure
as h
ell g
oing
to m
ake
it wo
rk, h
e ow
es it
to h
er
and
to h
imse
lf, C
hris
t’s s
ake.
And
she
’s th
inki
ng
the
light
in th
is p
lace
is to
o br
ight
, pro
babl
y
30
not v
ery
flatte
ring,
she
hat
es it
whe
n he
r lip
stic
k we
ars
off a
nd h
er m
akeu
p ge
ts c
aked
, she
’d li
ke
to u
se a
ladi
es’ r
oom
but
ther
e is
n’t o
ne h
ere
and
Jesu
s ho
w lo
ng b
efor
e a
gas
stat
ion
open
s?—
it’
s th
e m
iddl
e of
the
nigh
t and
she
has
a fe
elin
g
35
time
is n
ever
goi
ng to
bud
ge.
This
tim
e th
ough
she
isn’
t goi
ng to
dem
ean
hers
elf—
he
sta
rts in
abo
ut h
is w
ife, h
is k
ids,
how
he
let t
hem
dow
n, th
ey tr
uste
d hi
m a
nd h
e le
t
them
dow
n, s
he’ll
sla
m o
ut o
f the
god
dam
ned
room
40
an
d if
he c
alls
her
Sug
ar o
r Bab
y in
that
voi
ce,
runn
ing
his
hand
s ov
er h
er li
ke h
e ha
s th
e rig
ht,
she’
ll sl
ap h
is fa
ce h
ard,
You
kno
w I h
ate
that
: Sto
p!
And
he’ll
sto
p. H
e’d
bette
r. T
he a
ngrie
r sh
e ge
ts th
e st
iller
she
is, h
asn’
t sai
d a
word
45
for t
he p
ast t
en m
inut
es, n
ot a
stra
nd
of h
er h
air s
tirs,
and
it s
mel
ls a
littl
e lik
e as
hes
or li
ke th
e he
nna
she
uses
to b
right
en it
, but
th
e sm
ell i
s fa
int o
r any
way,
cra
zy fo
r her
lik
e he
is, h
e do
esn’
t not
ice,
or m
ind—
50
bu
ryin
g hi
s ho
t fac
e in
her
nec
k, b
etwe
en h
er c
ool
brea
sts,
or h
er le
gs—
wher
ever
she
’ll h
ave
him
, an
d wh
enev
er.
She’
s st
ill c
onte
mpl
atin
g th
e ci
gare
tte b
urni
ng in
her
han
d,
the
coun
term
an is
stil
l sto
oped
gap
ing
55
at h
er, a
nd h
e do
esn’
t min
d th
at, w
hy n
ot,
as lo
ng a
s sh
e do
esn’
t loo
k ba
ck, i
n fa
ct
he’s
thin
king
he’
s th
e lu
ckie
st m
an in
the
world
so
why
isn’
t he
happ
ier?
Ni
ghth
awks
, Edw
ard H
oppe
r, 19
42.
Art In
stitut
e of C
hicag
o
