"China Mieville - Details" - читать интересную книгу автора (Mieville China)

China Mieville - Details


colonizing them. I remember thingsтАж happy timesтАж and the
thing's waiting in the texture of my dress, or in the crumbs of my
birthday cake. I didn't notice it then. But I can see it now. My
memories aren't mine anymore. Not even my imaginings. Last night
I thought about going to the seaside, and then the thing was there in
the foam on the waves."
She spoke very little the next few times I visited her. I read the
chapters she demanded and she grunted curtly in response. She ate
quickly.
Her other visitors were there more often now, as the spring came in.
I saw them in new combinations and situations: the glamorous
young woman arguing with the friendly drunk; the old man sobbing
at the far end of the hall. The aggressive man was often there,
cajoling and moaning, and occasionally talking conversationally
through the door, being answered like an equal. Other times he
screamed at her as usual.
I arrived on a chilly day to find the drunken cockney man sleeping a
few feet from the door, snoring gutturally. I gave Mrs. Miller her
food and then sat on my coat and read to her from a women's
magazine as she ate.
When she had finished her food I waited with my arms outstretched,
ready to snatch the bowl from her. I remember that I was very
uneasy, that I sensed something wrong. I was looking around me
anxiously, but everything seemed normal. I looked down at my coat
and the crumpled magazine, at the man who still sprawled comatose
in the hall.
As I heard Mrs. Miller's hands on the door, I realized what had

file:///H|/eMule/Incoming/China%20Mieville%20-%20Details.html (17 of 22)13-8-2005 23:44:36
China Mieville - Details


changed. The drunken man was not snoring. He was holding his
breath.
For a tiny moment I thought he had died, but I could see his body
trembling, and my eyes began to open wide and I stretched my
mouth to scream a warning, but the door had already begun to
swing in its tight, quick arc, and before I could even exhale the
stinking man pushed himself up faster than I would have thought
him capable and bore down on me with bloodshot eyes.
I managed to keen as he reached me, and the door faltered for an
instant, as Mrs. Miller heard my voice. But the man grabbed hold of
me in a terrifying, heavy fug of alcohol. He reached down and
snatched my coat from the floor, tugged at the jumper I had tied
around my waist with his other hand, and hurled me hard at the door.
It flew open, smacking Mrs. Miller aside. I was screaming and
crying. My eyes hurt at the sudden burst of cold white light from all