"Charles De Lint - Jack, The Giant-Killer" - читать интересную книгу автора (De Lint Charles)

night was quiet and she was sober enough to indulge in
one of her favorite pastimes: looking in through the lit
windows of the houses she passed to catcтАЩh brief
glimpses of other peopleтАЩs lives.
Other peopleтАЩs lives. Did other peopleтАЩs boyfriends
leave them because they were too dull?
SheтАЩd met Will at her sister ConnieтАЩs wedding three
months ago. HeтАЩd been charmed then, by the same things
that had sent him storming out of her life earlier this
evening. Then it had been тАЬa relief to find someone who
isnтАЩt just into image.тАЭ A person who тАЬvalued the quiet
times.тАЭ Now she was boring because she wouldnтАЩt do
anything. But he was the one whoтАЩd changed.
When they first met, theyтАЩd made their own good
times, not needing an endless tour of parties and bars. But
quiet times at home werenтАЩt enough for Will anymore,
while she hadnтАЩt wanted a change. Had that really been
what sheтАЩd wanted, she asked herself now, or was she just
too lazy to do more?
She hadnтАЩt been able to answer that earlier, and she
couldnтАЩt answer it now. How did other people deal with
this kind of thing?
She looked in back yards and windows, as if expecting
to find an answer there. The houses that fronted Belmont
Avenue and backed onto the park where she was walking
were mostly brick or wood-frame, dating back to the
fifties and earlier. She moved catlike in the grass beside
them, not going too close to the lit windows, not even
stepping into their back yards, just stealing her glimpses as
she moved slowly by. Here an overhead fixture lit a huge
oil painting of a Maritime fishing village, there subtle
lighting gleamed on two marble statues of birdsтАФan eagle
and an owl, the light behind them hiding their features, if
not their profiles, and making soft halos around their
silhouettes.
She paused, smiling at the picture they made, feeling
almost sober. She moved on, then tensed, hearing a sound
in the distance. It was a deep-throated growl of a sound
that she couldnтАЩt quite place.
 She looked around the park, then to the house beside
the one with the two marble birds. Its windows were dark,
but she had the feeling that someone was standing there,
looking out at her as quietly as she was looking in.
Catsoft. Silent against the rumble of sound that was
getting louder, steadily approaching. For a long moment
she returned the gaze of the hidden watcher. She swayed
and shivered, sobriety and warmth leaving as she paused
too long in one spot. Then she caught a glimpse of
movement at the far end of the park.
It looked like a young boyтАФno more than ten or