Пролетая над гнездом кукушки

           Rightnow,she’sgotthefogmachineswitchedon,andit’srollinginsofastIcan’tseeathingbutherface,rollinginthickerandthicker,andIfeelashopelessanddeadasIfelthappyaminuteago,whenshegavethatlittlejerk—evenmorehopelessthaneverbefore,onaccountofIknownowthereisnorealhelpagainstherorherCombine.McMurphycan’thelpanymorethanIcould.Nobodycanhelp.AndthemoreIthinkabouthownothingcanbehelped,thefasterthefogrollsin.

           AndI’mgladwhenitgetsthickenoughyou’relostinitandcanletgo,andbesafeagain.