"Jim Munroe - Flyboy Action Figure Comes With Gas Mask" - читать интересную книгу автора (Munroe Jim)

 "So you're a real bug scenester," Ken said. "I knew you were into them,
but you're like
a mover and shaker."
"A little bit," I said. We had gone to a restaurant to get out of the
cold and to fill Ken's
belly. He was a vegetarian, so he was eating some noodley stuff. I hadn't been
here before but
could read by the backwards name in the window that it was called Kensington
Bakery.
"I've been interested in the Little Kingdom since I was a kid. I know
most of the people
in the city who are involved with the subject, met them over the years. There
aren't really all that
many. That Crawford guy just moved to the city, so I wanted to check him
out."
Ken was deep into his noodles, so as he nodded they bobbed up and down.
He was
one of the few people who didn't look at my interest in insects as an extended
childhoodism or
an odd fetish. He had a mind that was free of the dust and grime that most
people accumulate
over twenty years, quick to dream and laugh and slow to judge. He had old-man
hair, white-
blond, with crinkly, wide, youngster-eyes.
"I like buggies. They're nice. I think I'd like some to eat right now,"
he said, gnashing at
his noodles.
"Would you eat bugs?" I asked, thinking about the vegetarian thing.
"If they were baked in a nice cake, I would."
I batted a salt shaker back and forth. I had already gotten my caffeine
fix, and couldn't
really afford to be buying stuff all the time. Luckily, batting a salt shaker
back and forth was free
in most places.
A guy with a tuft of blue hair passed by the window and waved at Ken,
not stopping
but smiling. "That crazy Mark . . . he'll catch his death of cold," said Ken.
"Oh . . . you met
Mark . . . didn't you?"
"Don't think so."
"At Maxwell's party. Last . . . oh, maybe you weren't there. He goes
around with my
other friend Valerie."
I remembered meeting Valerie. It was hard to imagine her beside the guy
who had just
passed the window. Then again, Cassandra and I were hardly twins separated at
birth, so that
line of thought ended up giving me a hypo of hope.
"She does a poetry zine, too." He mentioned the name.
"Never heard of it," I said.