Американские боги

           World’sspecifications,andhackedatthebaseofitwiththeknife-blade,cuttingithalf-through,thenbreakingitoffwithhishand.Itwasaboutthirtyincheslong.

           Heputtheknifebackinitssheath.Thenhestartedtoclimbbackdowntheladder.WhenhewasoppositeShadow,hepaused."God,Ihateyou,"hesaid.Hewishedhecouldjusthavetakenoutagunandshothim,andheknewthathecouldnot.Andthenhejabbedthestickintheairtowardthehangingman,inastabbingmotion.Itwasaninstinctivegesture,containingallthefrustrationandrageinsideTown.HeimaginedthathewasholdingaspearandtwistingitintoShadow’sguts.

           "Comeon,"hesaid,aloud."Timetogetmoving."Thenhethought,Firstsignofmadness.Talkingtoyourself.Heclimbeddownafewmoresteps,thenjumpedtherestofthewaytotheground.Helookedatthestickhewasholding,andfeltlikeasmallboy,holdinghisstickasaswordoraspear.Icouldhavecutastickfromanytree,hethought.Itdidn’thavetobethistree.Whothefuckwouldhaveknown?

           Andhethought,Mr.Worldwouldhaveknown.

           Hecarriedtheladderbacktothefarmhouse.Fromthecornerofhiseyehethoughthesawsomethingmove,andhelookedinthroughthewindow,intothedarkroomfilledwithbrokenfurniture,withtheplasterpeelingfromthewalls,andforamoment,inahalf-dream,heimaginedthathesawthreewomensittinginthedarkparlor.

           Oneofthemwasknitting.