Мгла
After the Storm. Norton. A Trip to Town.
"CanIgoovertotheBibbers’andseewhathappenedthere?"
"Justforacoupleofminutes.They’llbecleaningup,too,andsometimesthatmakespeoplefeelalittleugly."ThewayIpresentlyfeltaboutNorton.
"Okay.Bye!"Hewasoff.
"Stayoutoftheirway,champ.AndBilly?"
Heglancedback.
"Rememberaboutthelivewires.Ifyouseemore,steerclearofthem."
"Sure,Dad."
Istoodthereforamoment,firstsurveyingthedamage,thenglancingoutatthemistagain.Itseemedcloser,butitwasveryhardtotellforsure.Ifitwascloser,itwasdefyingallthelawsofnature,becausethewind-averygentlebreeze-wasagainstit.That,ofcourse,waspatentlyimpossible.Itwasvery,verywhite.TheonlythingIcancompareittowouldbefresh-fallensnowlyingindazzlingcontrasttothedeep-bluebrillianceofthewintersky.Butsnowreflectshundredsandhundredsofdiamondpointsinthesun,andthispeculiarfogbank,althoughbrightandclean-looking,didnotsparkle.InspiteofwhatSteffhadsaid,mistisn’tuncommononcleardays,butwhenthere’salotofit,thesuspendedmoisturealmostalwayscausesarainbow.Buttherewasnorainbowhere.
Theuneasewasback,tuggingatme,butbeforeitcoulddeepenIheardalow,mechanicalsound-whut-whut-whut!-followedbyabarelyaudible"Shit!"Themechanicalsoundwasrepeated,butthistimetherewasnooath.Thethirdtimethechuffingsoundwasfollowedby"Mother-fuck!"inthesamelowI’m-all-by-myself-but-boy-am-I-pissedtone.
Whut-whut-whut-whut
-Silence
-then:"Youcunt."
