Мгла
An Argument with Norton. A Discussion Near the Beer Cooler. Verification.
Hisvoicetriedforhardemphasisandovershotintostridency.ThiswasthemanI’dtoldfirst,hopingtoenlisthiscredibility.Whataballs-up.
"Ofcourseit’salie,"Brownagreed."It’slunacy.Wheredoyousupposethosetentaclescamefrom,Mr.Drayton?"
"Idon’tknow,andatthispoint,that’snotevenaveryimportantquestion.They’rehere.There’s-"
"Isuspecttheycameoutofafewofthosebeercans.That’swhatIsuspect."Thisgotsomeappreciativelaughter.Itwassilencedbythestrong,rusty-hingevoiceofMrs.Carmody.
"Death!"shecried,andthosewhohadbeenlaughingquicklysobered.
Shemarchedintothecenteroftheroughcirclethathadformed,hercanarypantsseemingtogiveoffalightoftheirown,herhugepurseswingingagainstoneelephantinethigh.Herblackeyesglancedarrogantlyaround,assharpandbalefullysparklingasamagpie’s.Twogood-lookinggirlsofaboutsixteenwithCAMPWOODLANDSwrittenonthebackoftheirwhiterayonshirtsshrankawayfromher.
"Youlistenbutyoudon’thear!Youhearbutyoudon’tbelieve!Whichoneofyouwantstogooutsideandseeforhimself?"Hereyessweptthem,andthenfellonme."Andjustwhatdoyouproposetodoaboutit,Mr.DavidDrayton?Whatdoyouthinkyoucandoaboutit?"
Shegrinned,skull-likeabovehercanaryoutfit.
"It’stheend,Itellyou.Theendofeverything.It’stheLastTimes.Themovingfingerhaswrit,notinfire,butinlinesofmist.
