Thoughts After Reading "The Catcher in the Rye"

America in the 1950s had such a cold gray sky. The dark clouds were shattered in the bleak north wind, and the smoke of the Cold War filled the thin air like the smell of cigars. The raindrops slid down from the black end, across the brim of our dark hats and dark raincoats, and finally rolled down the hem of our clothes and fell into the pool of black rain boots. Conception: