From Eudora Welty's "Where is the Voice Coming From?" (1963):
Something darker than him, like the wings of a bird, spread on his back and pulled him down. He climbed once, like a man under bad claws, and like just blood could weigh a ton he walked with it on his back to a better light. Didn't get no further than his door. And fell to stay.
He was down. He was down, and a ton load of bricks on his back wouldn't have laid any heavier. There on his paved driveway, yes sir.
. . .
I was on top of the world myself. For once.
I stepped to the edge of his light there, where he's laying flat. I says, "Roland? There was just one way left, for me to be ahead of you and stay ahead of you, by Dad, and I just taken it. Now I'm alive and you ain't. We ain't never now, never going to be equals and you know why? One of us is dead."
I stepped to the edge of his light there, where he's laying flat. I says, "Roland? There was just one way left, for me to be ahead of you and stay ahead of you, by Dad, and I just taken it. Now I'm alive and you ain't. We ain't never now, never going to be equals and you know why? One of us is dead."
(Collected Stories, 604)