451 по фаренгейту
It was a pleasure to burn
"Cometobed."
Heheardherrollimpatiently;thebedspringssquealed.
"Areyoudrunk?"shesaid.
Soitwasthehandthatstarteditall.Hefeltonehandandthentheotherworkhiscoatfreeandletitslumptothefloor. Heheldhispantsoutintoanabyssandletthemfallintodarkness. Hishandshadbeeninfected,andsoonitwouldbehisarms.Hecouldfeelthepoisonworkinguphiswristsandintohiselbowsandhisshoulders,andthenthejump-overfromshoulder-bladetoshoulder-bladelikeasparkleapingagap. Hishandswereravenous. Andhiseyeswerebeginningtofeelhunger,asiftheymustlookatsomething,anything,everything.
Hiswifesaid,"Whatareyoudoing?"
Hebalancedinspacewiththebookinhissweatingcoldfingers.
Aminutelatershesaid, "Well,justdon’tstandthereinthemiddleofthefloor."
Hemadeasmallsound.
"What?"sheasked.
Hemademoresoftsounds.Hestumbledtowardsthebedandshovedthebookclumsilyunderthecoldpillow. Hefellintobedandhiswifecriedout,startled.Helayfaracrosstheroomfromher,onawinterislandseparatedbyanemptysea.
