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- Чарльз Буковски
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- Стр. 159/501
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At
6
am
Tammie
gave
me
her
address
and
phone
number
.
"
I
’
ve
got
to
go
,
"
she
said
.
"
I
’
ll
walk
you
to
your
car
.
"
It
was
a
bright
red
Camaro
,
completely
wrecked
.
The
front
was
smashed
in
,
one
side
was
ripped
open
and
the
windows
were
gone
.
Inside
were
rags
and
shirts
and
Kleenex
boxes
and
newspapers
and
milk
cartons
and
Coke
bottles
and
wire
and
rope
and
paper
napkins
and
magazines
and
paper
cups
and
shoes
and
bent
colored
drinking
straws
.
This
mass
of
stuff
was
piled
above
seat
level
and
covered
the
seats
.
Only
the
driver
’
s
area
had
a
little
clear
space
.
Tammie
stuck
her
head
out
the
window
and
we
kissed
.
Then
she
tore
away
from
the
curb
and
by
the
time
she
reached
the
corner
she
was
doing
45
.
She
did
hit
the
brakes
and
the
Camaro
bobbed
up
and
down
,
up
and
down
.
I
walked
back
inside
.
I
went
to
bed
and
thought
about
her
hair
.
I
’
d
never
known
a
real
redhead
.
It
was
fire
.
Like
lightning
from
heaven
,
I
thought
.
Somehow
her
face
didn
’
t
seem
to
be
as
hard
anymore
.
.
.
I
phoned
her
.
It
was
1
am
.
I
went
over
.
