Сияние

Watson

           Getachillandcatchacold,myoldmumusedtosay.Godblessher,shebeendeadsixyear.Thecancergother.Oncethecancergetsyou,youmightaswellmakeyourwill.

           "You’llwanttokeepyourpressuptonomorethanfifty,maybesixty.Mr.Ullman,besaystoheatthewestwingoneday,centralwingthenext,eastwingthedayafterthat.Ain’theacrazyman?Ihatethatlittlefucker.Yap-yap-yapallthelivelongday,he’sjustlikeoneathoselittledogsthatbitesyouontheanklethenrunaroundanpeeallovertherug.Ifbrainswasblackpowderhecouldn’tblowhisownnose.It’sapitythethingsyouseewhenyouain’tgotagun.

           "Lookhere.Youopenanclosetheseducksbypullintheserings.Igotemallmarkedforyou.Thebluetagsallgototheroomsintheeastwing.Redtagsisthemiddle.Yellowisthewestwing.Whenyougotoheatthewestwing,yougottorememberthat’sthesideofthehotelthatreallycatchestheweather.Whenitwhoops,thoseroomsgetascoldasafrigidwomanwithanicecubeupherworks.Youcanrunyourpressallthewaytoeightyonwestwingdays.Iwould,anyway."

           "Thethermostatsupstairs-"Jackbegan.

           Watsonshookhisbeadvehemently,makinghisfluffyhairbounceonhisskull."Theyain’thookedup.They’rejustthereforshow.SomeofthesepeoplefromCalifornia,theydon’tthinkthingsisrightunlesstheygotithotenoughtogrowapalmtreeintheirfuckinbedroom.Alltheheatcomesfromdownhere.

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