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- Чарльз Буковски
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- Стр. 172/501
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Then
she
took
my
books
out
of
the
shopping
bags
and
started
throwing
them
around
,
out
into
the
street
,
out
on
the
lawn
,
everywhere
.
"
Here
are
your
paintings
!
Here
are
your
books
!
AND
DON
’
T
TELL
ME
ABOUT
YOUR
WOMEN
!
DON
’
T
TELL
ME
ABOUT
YOUR
WOMEN
!
"
Then
Lydia
ran
down
to
my
court
with
a
book
in
her
hand
,
my
latest
,
The
Selected
Works
of
Henry
Chinaski
.
She
screamed
,
"
So
you
want
your
books
back
?
So
you
want
your
books
back
?
Here
are
your
goddamned
books
!
AND
DON
’
T
TELL
ME
ABOUT
YOUR
WOMEN
!
"
She
started
smashing
the
glass
panes
in
my
front
door
.
She
took
The
Selected
Works
of
Henry
Chinaski
and
smashed
pane
after
pane
,
screaming
,
"
You
want
your
books
back
?
Here
are
your
goddamned
books
!
AND
DON
’
T
TELL
ME
ABOUT
YOUR
WOMEN
!
I
DON
’
T
WANT
TO
HEAR
ABOUT
YOUR
WOMEN
!
"
I
stood
there
as
she
screamed
and
broke
glass
.
Where
are
the
police
?
I
thought
.
Where
?
Then
Lydia
ran
down
the
court
walk
,
took
a
quick
left
at
the
trash
bin
and
ran
down
the
driveway
of
the
apartment
house
next
door
.
Behind
a
small
bush
was
my
typewriter
,
my
radio
and
my
toaster
.
Lydia
picked
up
the
typewriter
and
ran
out
into
the
center
of
the
street
with
it
.
It
was
a
heavy
old
-
fashioned
standard
machine
.
Lydia
lifted
the
typer
high
over
her
head
with
both
hands
and
smashed
it
in
the
street
.
The
platen
and
several
other
parts
flew
off
She
picked
the
typer
up
again
,
raised
it
over
her
head
and
screamed
,
"
DON
’
T
TELL
ME
ABOUT
YOUR
WOMEN
!
"
and
smashed
it
into
the
street
again
.
Then
Lydia
jumped
into
her
car
and
drove
off
.
Fifteen
seconds
later
the
police
cruiser
drove
up
.
"
It
’
s
an
orange
Volks
.
It
’
s
called
the
Thing
,
looks
like
a
tank
.
I
don
’
t
remember
the
license
number
,
but
the
letters
are
HZY
,
like
HAZY
,
got
it
?
"
