Таинственная история Билли Миллигана

           Wherethehellwashe?Hewentbacktotheroom,dressedandheadeddownstairstoseeifhecouldidentifyhissurroundings.Onthestairs,hepassedamancomingupwithatray.

           "Bito’breakfast,gov’nah?"themanasked."Bloomin’lovelyday."

           Allenrandownthesteps,outthefrontdoor,intothestreet,andlookedaround.Hesawtheblacktaxicabswiththebiglicenseplates,thepubsign,thetrafficonthewrongsideofthestreet.

           "Holyshit!Whatthehellsgoingon?Whatthehell’sthematterwithme?"Heranupandback,shouting,terrifiedandangryatthesametime.Peopleturnedtolookathim,buthedidn’tcare.Hehatedhimselfforwakingupindifferentplacesallthetime,fornotbeingabletocontrolhimself.Hejustcouldn’ttakethisanymore.Hewantedtodie.Hedroppedtohiskneesandbeathisfistsintothecurb,tearsrollingdownhischeeks.

           Then,realizingthatifapolicemancameby,he’dbehauledofftothenuthouse,Allenjumpedtohisfeet.Hedashedbacktohisroom,wherehefoundinhissuitcaseapassportwiththename"ArthurSmith."Insideitwasthereceiptofaone-wayplanetickettoLondon.Allenslumpedonthebed.WhathadArthurhadinmind?Crazybastard!

           Searchingthroughhispockets,hefoundseventy-fivedollars.Wherewashegoingtogetthemoneytogethome?Areturnticketwouldprobablycostthreeorfourhundredbucks.