Agony, Lust, And Mortal Conflict Cram The Corridors Of A Snowbound Train
From the back:
A front man for a tinhorn gambling syndicate… a woman whose body had never been touched… a dissatisfied husband… a lesbian — and all of them strangers.
Then the snow came, thick as mud. cold. cruel snow. and the swift streamliner could not break through the icy wall. Strangers they were, one minute before, but now — while the storm howled outside and passions raged within — they were lovers. killers. savage beasts.
A train stands still in the cold wasteland of America. and for these four people. time stands still, civilization fades, and the call of the flesh is heard in the darkened corridors…
Art signed (on man’s sleeve) Robert Oliver Skemp.