"Attanasio, A A - Radix 02 - In Other Worlds 1.0" - читать интересную книгу автора (Attanasio A.A)

"Hey! Cut that out. That hurts."
"I can't stop it. I've been electrocuting customers all day.
Look." He passed his hand over a stack of napkins, and the paper
rose like drowsy leaves and clung to his fingers.
"It's some kind of static electricity," Sheelagh explained.
"I'll say. What can I do about it?"
"Keep your hands to yourself."
Spark surges thudded through him whenever he reached for
metal, and after another hour .of stiffening jolts, he sat on a stool at
the far end of the bar and cradled his head in his hands.
"Is it that bad, darlin'?" A gentle hand touched his bald head,
and another spark jumped.
Carl looked up into Caitlin's whiskey-bright eyes. A -feeling of
bloated peacefulness buoyed him at the sight of her time-snarled
face. "Hi, Caity. Everything's wrong for me tonight. And I don't
even know why."
"Just your luck taking a rest. Don't mind it. Have a drink."
"Nah-but I'd better get back to work."
"Wait." She took his hand, and another knot of electricity
unraveled sharply with her touch. "I have to tell you." The
marmalade-light in her stare dangled above him, and he could see
the whiskey burning in her. "If only I could tell you what I've been
humbled to. She doesn't know." She glanced toward where
Sheelagh was serving a table, her sinewy elegance shining in the dim
light. "You're a special man, Carl. Luck splits through you like light
through a crystal. I see that. I see it because I'm old, and pain and
mistakes have taught me how to see. You're a beautiful man, Carl
Schirmer." Her scowl softened, and she turned away and went back
to the kitchen. A customer called from the bar, and Carl rose like a
lark into a smoky sunrise.
Caitlin's kind words fueled Carl for the rest of his last day, but
by closing time he was feeling wrong again. He felt tingly as a
glowworm, and all the tiny hairs on his body were standing straight
up. He left Caitlin and Sheelagh to shut down the Blue Apple and
walked home. An icy zero was widening in his chest, and he
thought for sure he was going to be sick. Nonetheless, the beauty he
had felt that morning was still there. Above the city lights, a chain
of stars twined against the

darkness, and the fabric of midnight shimmered like wet fur. Only
the bizarre emptiness deepening inside him kept him from leaping
with joy.
So self-absorbed was he with the bubble of vacancy
expanding within him that he didn't notice the befuddled look on
the face of the kid whose huge radio fuzzed out and in as Carl
passed. Nor did he see the streetlights winking out above him and
then flaring back brightly in his wake. The midnight traffic slowed
to watch the neon lights in the stores along Twentythird Street
warble to darkness in his presence. Not until he had stumbled up
the blacked-out stairs of his own building and had fumbled to get