Вино из одуванчиков

           HeputhisPanamahatonhishead,gazedatthesunlightblisteringandshrivelingthetreesoverhead,hesitatedlikeamanplungingintotheouterrimofhell,andranagainforhiscar.Theexhaustofthecarleftagreatpallofbluesmokeinthepulsingairforfiveminutesafterhewasgone.

           Tomtooktheicepickinthekitchenandchippedapoundoficeintoprismswhichhecarriedupstairs.MotherwassittingonthebedandtheonlysoundintheroomwasDouglasbreathinginsteamandbreathingoutfire.Theyputtheiceinhandkerchiefsonhisfaceandalonghisbody.Theydrewtheshadesandmadetheroomlikeacave.Theysatthereuntiltwoo’clock,bringingupmoreice.ThentheytouchedDouglas’sbrowagainanditwaslikealampthathadburnedallnight.Aftertouchinghimyoulookedatyourfingerstomakesuretheyweren’tsearedtothebone.

           Motheropenedhermouthtosaysomething,butthecicadasweresoloudnowtheyshookdustdownfromtheceiling.

           Insideredness,insideblindness,Douglaslaylisteningtothedimpistonofhisheartandthemuddyebbandflowofthebloodinhisarmsandlegs.

           Hislipswereheavyandwouldnotmove.Histhoughtswereheavyandbarelytickedlikeseedpelletsfallinginanhourglassslowonebyfallingone.Tick.

           Aroundabrightsteelcomerofrailatrolleyswung,throwingacrumblingwaveofsizzlingsparks,itsclamorousbellknockingtenthousandtimesuntilitblendedwiththecicadas.Mr.Triddenwaved.Thetrolleystormedaroundacomerlikeacannonadeanddissolved.Mr.Tridden!

           Tick.Apelletfell.