"George Alec Effinger - Slow, Slow Burn" - читать интересную книгу автора (Effinger George Alec)

place.

FAWN (making a face): If only the wind would stop blowing.

DAWN: Oh, sure, the wind. If only the wind stopped blowing, it

would still be, like, ten degrees below zero or something.

FAWN (rubbing her cheeks): Hey! (Pointing through display

window) Here he comes!


19
 Slow, Slow Burn
by George Alec Effinger



DAWN (to store manager): Let us in now, and you can have me

right on top of the cash register.

"The manager is, in fact, opening the front door. He's smiling in

anticipation; the store is going to make a fortune today. тАШSlow, Slow

BurnтАЩ is stacked up four feet high in the front window, piled up

beside every register and loaded into cardboard dumps scattered all

around the selling floor. You can't turn around inside the store

without staring into the liquid green eyes of Honey P├нlar. Her

holographic likeness is more than just inviting; if the mythical sirens

had looked like Honey, they wouldn't have had to sing.

"When the door opens, of course, what disappears is any respect

for the length of time Fawn and Dawn have been waiting in the

freezing night air. They are pushed aside by the jerk-offs behind

them and by the jerk-offs behind them. Fawn and Dawn are cast

aside by the charging throng of people. They announce that this is
20