An excerpt from Kafka in Richmond:
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This was quite extraordinary in K’s estimation but he sensed the matter must wait to be addressed until they were out of earshot of the dour and heavily tattooed group. “What danger was so great that it necessitated dragging me up a street like a child its ragdoll?” he asked once he gaged that they were at a great enough distance not to be overheard. “Are they American Indians?”
It took most of the three block walk, until they approached the grocery store, for Arthur to explain biker groups and their protectiveness of their motorcycles and tough guy reputations. As they approached the turn-off to the store, K noticed a group of young men gathered glumly together at the entrance to a parking lot below a large sign bearing the name ‘Lowe’s’. The men spoke little as the two approached. The little they said seemed to be spoken in a foreign language.