Коллекционер
Chapter 1
Insteadofmassacringbutterflies,likeastupidschoolboy."
Someverycleverpeoplecollectbutterflies,Isaid.
"Oh,clever...what’stheuseofthat?Aretheyhumanbeings?"
Whatdoyoumean?Iasked.
"Ifyouhavetoask,Ican’tgiveyoutheanswer."
Thenshesaid,"Ialwaysseemtoendupbytalkingdowntoyou.Ihateit.It’syou.YoualwayssquirmonesteplowerthanIcango."
Shewentlikethatatmesometimes.OfcourseIforgaveher,thoughithurtatthetime.Whatshewasaskingforwassomeonedifferenttome,someoneIcouldneverbe.Forinstance,allthatnightaftershesaidIcouldcollectpicturesIthoughtaboutit;Idreamedmyselfcollectingpictures,havingabighousewithfamouspictureshangingonthewalls,andpeoplecomingtoseethem.Mirandathere,too,ofcourse.ButIknewallthetimeitwassilly;I’dnevercollectanythingbutbutterflies.Picturesdon’tmeananythingtome.Iwouldn’tbedoingitbecauseIwanted,sotherewouldn’tbeanypoint.Shecouldneverseethat.
Shedidseveralmoredrawingsofmewhichwerequitegood,buttherewassomethinginthemIdidn’tlike,shedidn’tbothersomuchaboutanicelikenessaswhatshecalledmyinnercharacter,sosometimesshemademynosesopointeditwouldhaveprickedyouandmymouthwasallthinandunpleasant,Imeanmorethanitreallyis,becauseIknowI’mnobeauty.
