Сияние

Night Thoughts

           

           Andnow,lyingwakefulinherbedandlisteningtoherhusband’sbreathingandthewindoutside(miraculously,they’dhadonlyanotherflurrythatafternoon;stillnoheavysnow),shelethermindturnfullytoherlovely,troublingson,bornwithacauloverhisface,asimpletissueofmembranethatdoctorssawperhapsonceineverysevenhundredbirths,atissuethattheoldwives’talessaidbetokenedthesecondsight.

           ShedecidedthatitwastimetotalktoDannyabouttheOverlook…andhightimeshetriedtogetDannytotalktoher.Tomorrow.Forsure.ThetwoofthemwouldbegoingdowntotheSidewinderPublicLibrarytoseeiftheycouldgethimsomesecond-grade-levelbooksonanextendedloanthroughthewinter,andshewouldtalktohim.Andfrankly.Withthatthoughtshefeltalittleeasier,andatlastbegantodrifttowardsleep.

           ***

           Dannylayawakeinhisbedroom,eyesopen,leftarmencirclinghisagedandslightlyworse-for-wearPooh(Poohhadlostoneshoe-buttoneyeandwasoozingstuffingfromhalfadozensprungseams),listeningtohisparentssleepintheirbedroom.Hefeltasifhewerestandingunwillingguardoverthem.Thenightsweretheworstofall.Hehatedthenightsandtheconstanthowlofthewindaroundthewestsideofthehotel.

           Hisgliderfloatedoverheadfromastring.OnhisbureautheVWmodel,broughtupfromtheroadwaysetupdownstairs,glowedadimlyfluorescentpurple.

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