Сияние

Hallorann, Going up the Country

           Hecouldseethehighcab,eventhegesticulatingfigureofthedriverbehindthesinglelongwiperblade.HecouldseetheVshapeoftheplow’swingblades,spewingmoresnowupontotheroad’sleft-handembankmentlikepallid,smokingexhaust.

           WHAAAAAAAAA!theairhornbellowedindignantly.

           HesqueezedtheacceleratorlikethebreastofamuchlovedwomanandtheBuickscootedforwardandtowardtheright.Therewasnoembankmentoverhere;theplowsheadedupinsteadofdownhadonlytopushthesnowdirectlyoverthedrop.

           (Thedrop,ahyes,thedrop-)

           ThewingbladesonHallorann’sleft,fullyfourfeethigherthantheElectra’sroof,flirtedbywithnomorethananinchortwotospare.Untiltheplowhadactuallyclearedhim,Hallorannhadthoughtacrashinevitable.Aprayerwhichwashalfaninarticulateapologytotheboyflittedthroughhismindlikeatornrag.

           Thentheplowwaspast,itsrevolvingbluelightsglintingandflashinginHallorann’srearviewmirror.

           HejockeyedtheBuick’ssteeringwheelbacktotheleft,butnothingdoing.Thescoothadturnedintoaskid,andtheBuickwasfloatingdreamilytowardthelipofthedrop,spurningsnowfromunderitsmudguards.

           Heflickedthewheelbacktheotherway,intheskid’sdirection,andthecar’sfrontandrearbegantoswapplaces.Panickednow,hepumpedthebrakehard,andthenfeltahardbump.

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