Зеленая миля

Chapter 1

           Ithoughtaboutgoingdowntothekitchen,gettingsometoast,andgoingformymorningwalk,thenlookeddownatthesheafsofscribbledpagesscatteredacrossthedesk.AllatonceIdecidedtoputoffthewalkforawhile.Ihadachore,yes,butitcouldkeep,andIdidn’tfeellikeplayinghide-and-seekwithBradDolanthatmorning.

           Insteadofwalking,I’dfinishmystory.Sometimesit’sbettertopushonthrough,nomatterhowmuchyourmindandbodymayprotest.Sometimesit’stheonlywaytogetthrough.AndwhatIremembermostaboutthatmorningishowdesperatelyIwantedtogetfreeofJohnCoffey’spersistentghost.

           "Okay,"Isaid."Onemoremile.Butfirst..."

           Iwalkeddowntothetoiletattheendofthesecondfloorhall.AsIstoodinsidethere,urinating,Ihappenedtoglanceupatthesmokedetectorontheceiling.ThatmademethinkofElaine,andhowshehaddistractedDolansoIcouldgoformywalkanddomylittlechorethedaybefore.Ifinishedpeeingwithagrinonmyface.

           Iwalkedbacktothesunroom,feelingbetter(andalotcomfierinmynetherregions).SomeoneElaine,Ihavenodoubthadsetdownapotofteabesidemypages.Idrankgreedily,firstonecup,thenanother,beforeIevensatdown.ThenIresumedmyplace,uncappedthefountainpen,andoncemorebegantowrite.

           Iwasjustslippingfullyintomystorywhenashadowfellonme.Ilookedupandfeltasinkinginmystomach.

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