Tours of the Black Clock (Steve Erickson) читать бесплатно онлайн полную версию книги

26

I’M FIFTEEN. IN THE mornings I lurch into the kitchen, with the middle of me that carries its memories of dreamwomen as hard as steel and big as a president’s monument. The family literally turns away from the sight in shock. Alice has some sort of palpitations by the counter with the flour canisters, and my brothers seethe in fury. Only my father stares with perplexity, his mouth dropping slightly and forgetting to chew. This is, for the rest of them, the most terrifying manifestation of my size yet. It’s almost more than they can live with in the same house, I think.