Сияние

The Hedges

           Maybethesunjustmeltedenoughsnowoffthatolddogsotherestfelloffinabunch.Maybethat’sallitis.

           (Don’tgonearthatplace…steerrightclear.)

           Hissnowshoebindingswereastightastheywereevergoingtobe.Hestoodupandstaredbackattheconcretering,almostcompletelysubmergedinthesnow,andwhathesawattheendhehadexitedfromfrozehisheart.Therewasacircularpatchofdarknessattheendofit,afoldofshadowthatmarkedtheholehe’ddugtogetdowninside.Now,inspiteofthesnow-dazzle,hethoughthecouldseesomethingthere.Somethingmoving.Ahand.Thewavinghandofsomedesperatelyunhappychild,wavinghand,pleadingband,drowninghand.

           (SavemeOpleasesavemeIfyoucan’tsavemeatleastcomeplaywithme…Forever.AndForever.AndForever.)

           "No,"Dannywhisperedhuskily.Thewordfelldryandbarefromhismouth,whichwasstrippedofmoisture.Hecouldfeelhismindwaveringnow,tryingtogoawaythewayithadwhenthewomanintheroomhad…no,betternotthinkofthat.

           Hegraspedatthestringsofrealityandheldthemtightly.Hehadtogetoutofhere.Concentrateonthat.Becool.BeliketheSecretAgentMan.WouldPatrickMcGoohanbecryingandpeeinginhispantslikealittlebaby?

           Wouldhisdaddy?

           Thatcalmedhimsomewhat.

           Frombehindhim,thatsoftHumpsoundoffallingsnowcameagain.

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