Цветы для Элджернона

           Thedoorswungopenandshefacedme,stillinherunderwear,abrushineachhandandhandsonherhips.

           "Didn’tyouhearmesaycomein?"Shewavedmeintotheapartment,pushingawayacartonfulloftrash."Juststepoverthatpileofjunkthere."

           Ithoughtshemusthaveforgotten—ornotrealized—shewasundressed,andIdidn’tknowwhichwaytolook.Ikeptmyeyesaverted,lookingatthewalls,ceiling,every­wherebutather.

           Theplacewasashambles.Thereweredozensoflittlefoldingsnack-tables,allcoveredwithtwistedtubesofpaint,mostofthemcrusteddrylikeshriveledsnakes,butsomeofthemaliveandoozingribbonsofcolor.Tubes,brushes,cans,rags,andpartsofframesandcanvaswerestrewneverywhere.Theplacewasthickwiththeodorcompoundedofpaint,linseedoil,andturpentine—andafterafewmomentsthesubtlearomaofstalebeer.Threeoverstuffedchairsandamangygreencouchwerepiledhighwithdiscardedclothing,andonthefloorlayshoes,stockingsandunderthings,asifshewereinthehabitofundressingasshewalkedandflingingherclothesasshewent.Afinelayerofdustcoveredeverything.

           "Well,you’reMr.Gordon,"shesaid,lookingmeover."I’vebeendyingtogetapeekatyoueversinceyoumovedin.Haveaseat."Shescoopedupapileofclothingfromoneofthechairsanddumpeditontothecrowdedsofa."Soyoufinallydecidedtovisityourneighbors.Getyouadrink?"

           "You’reapainter,"Iburbled,forwantofsomethingtosay.