уголок прозы

...I had seen him through one little affair, connected with a heathen idol, that had brought me to the doors of a lunatic asylum, and I had no desire to help him through further experiences. He was a man to whom unpleasantnesses arrived as do dinners to ordinary people.

Therefore I explained more clearly than ever that I liked him immensely, and would be happy to see him in the daytime; but that I did not care to sleep under his roof. This was after dinner, when Tietjens had gone out to lie in the verandah.

''Pon my soul, I don't wonder,' said Strickland, with his eyes on the ceiling-cloth. 'Look at that!'

The tails of two brown snakes were hanging between the cloth and the cornice of the wall. They threw long shadows in the lamplight.
 

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всё проходит

“…for years I thought what was good for the country was good for General Motors and vice versa.” – Charles E. Wilson, 1953

кое-что из "намедни" т. 2

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на заре демократии

На Павелецкой-радиальной

Средь ионических колонн

Стоял мужчина идеальный

И пил тройной одеколон.

 

Он был заниженного роста,

С лицом, похожим на кремень.

Одет решительно и просто –

Трусы,

Галоши

И ремень.

 

В нем все значение имело,

Допрежь неведомое мне,

А где-то музыка гремела

И дети падали во сне.

 

А он стоял,

Мужского рода,

В своем единственном числе,

И непредвзятая свобода

Горела на его челе.

 

(Иртеньев, 1991)

(no subject)

Я дико извиняюсь за пошлый лытдыбр... но уже час повторяю вслух 2 строчки:
"Скока я зарезал -
Скока перерезал...",
подражая манере гениального Леонова.
Перекинулось и на жену, и на дочь...
С чего бы? Глупо... :-)